The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling
by Raynre Valence - Sage of Time
Summary: Link rescues Malon from bandits, but after seven years apart she doesn't recognize him. He escorts her home, only to find that Ingo has taken over and is driving the ranch to ruin. To save his old friend, Link must restore hope to a disheartened Malon and vows to return the ranch to her control. A closer look at the relationship between a simple farmgirl and the green-clad hero.
1. Introduction

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

For the full cover art, simply replace the DOTs with periods and put this into your web browser URL: lozparadisecalling DOT tumblr DOT com

Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Zelda or any of the established franchise characters. Link, Malon, and co. are the intellectual property of Nintendo and are not used by this author for any profit beyond his own personal – and sometimes twisted – amusement.

This story is rated **PG-13** for romance, sexual themes/suggestions, language, violence, and thematic elements. There are **adult themes** at work here, and it may dip into the **R** rating occasionally, but there will be no **NC-17**/**X** material here. You have been warned.

Please note: This story is based loosely on the Ocarina of Time videogame, but some facts have been skewed slightly, either as an acquiescence to realism, plot, or merely to suit the author's maniacal purposes. Now then, let's see if I can make an original story out of an already over-abused plotline, shall we? Enjoy!

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Introduction

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Every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Everyone knows how this story ended. The Hero found the sacred blade, acquired his noble steed, gathered his comrades-in-arms, scaled the castle, saved the kidnapped princess, and defeated the King of Evil in glorious, bloody combat. It wasn't easy, and the Hero suffered grievously, but in the end it was the combined forces of Courage and Wisdom that stood counter to the Dark Lord's Power. The Hero's deeds will echo and reverberate throughout time, even long after he is taken to again walk with the Goddesses.

The beginning of this story is another matter. No one really knows where he came from, or what dreadful fate befell his parents. He was just a babe when he was found in the Sacred Forest, chilled and swaddled in a nursing blanket, crying and alone, his mother's blood cooling on the ground. Any normal child would have died well before dawn, but Fate, it would seem, had a plan for this particular boy, and he was taken in by a tribe of forestfolk known as the Kokiri and raised as one of their own until his tenth namingday.

It is the middle of this story, however, that deserves the most attention. As in all epic stories, the Hero was beset from all sides by hardship and danger. The tales tell of him facing a monstrous dragon with naught but a cumbersome battle hammer, of crossing a sea of burning sand with no shelter from the merciless sun save his well-worn shield and an enchanted looking glass to guide the way. Indeed, if the tales of his triumphs were taken for its entirety, one would think that the boy faced nothing but skirmish after devious temple after pitched battle, with no rest or respite in between. It would be foolish to assume that the boy did not once despair in his year-long quest, for only something inhuman would not.

There is, however, a very important part that is usually glossed over; that of the acquisition of the Hero's horse. Although the Hero could cleanse a Sacred Temple in a matter of days, it took him over three months to acquire his horse, a seemingly very simple task if ever there was one. How hard could it be, really? Day one, acquire horse and ride off into sunset, the end. But it didn't happen that way. Scholars and bards from across the land have composed volumes on his feats of daring, his swordsmanship, his wit and his guile. Every tale has been told, and told again, and retold until nearly the entire kingdom could recite the stories of the Hero's quest by heart... except for one.

What you hold here in your hands is that tale. It is a tale of love and rekindled friendship, of two souls forged in the fires of hardship and bonded together by the strings of Fate.

_ 'Ah,'_ I can already hear you say, '_But even in the forsaken kingdom of Hyrul__e there was bound to be __dozens, perhaps hundreds of people falling in love during the seven long years of the Dark Lord's reign. What makes these two so special?'_

Because the boy was a Hero, blessed by the very Goddesses Themselves so that he might bring the war torn kingdom back from the brink of total annihilation. But he was also a hero of the people, never letting his own selfish desires overcome the needs of those around him, and thus the Goddesses granted him a blessing to aid him in his quests...

The girl was a hero too, in her own way.

She never stepped foot inside of a temple, nor did she slay the lesser Demons that guarded them. (Although there was that nasty bit with the Bulblins and the gargoyle...) And yet she played a greater part than anyone could possibly have known. She would be his guiding light in the dark days to come, offer him a comforting shoulder to lean on when discouragement set in, and tend to him when he was wounded. She became his sole beacon of hope when all seemed bleak and lost, and in return she would be welcomed into his heart, the symbol on which he would draw strength from and focus all of his energy into defending and protecting when his darkest hour drew nigh...

This is a story that bridges those three missing months in the Hero's life, without which he would have very likely not succeeded in his quest. It is also a story of a rancher, of the wrongs committed against her family and her personal quest for vengeance and salvation.

This is a story that is rarely told. Amidst a war torn kingdom, the Hero of Time and a simple ranch girl discovered a love that would blossom and grow to transcend even time itself.

This... is their story.


	2. Chapter 1: Ambush

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

Please check my profile for more in-depth author's notes for each chapter.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1: Ambush

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The covered wagon appeared over the broad crest of a hill in the endless field, its canvas peaking like that of a great sailing ship as it crowned the grassy ridge and began its leisurely journey down the leeward side. It swayed gently and silently as it was pulled along the well-worn road that carved its way across the great plains of Hyrule Field, with only a mild groan of protest from the rear axle whenever it encountered a gopher hole or a protruding stone in the road. Though it was in desperate need of a new coat of paint and the canvas had turned a bleached yellow from weather and age, the ancient wagon was in fine repair considering it had been built nearly half a century prior.

A great mare of powerful Gerudo lineage led it, an equine masthead hitched to the wagon's prow. Its powder-white mane and golden chestnut coat shone brightly under the late morning sun, courtesy of the careful grooming given by its owner only candlemarks prior. It strode proudly even burdened as it was, its long, high neck drooping only slightly with exertion in the sweltering heat.

A young woman sat on the bench of the wagon, reins held loosely in her long fingers. She wore a simple cotton shift and a long lavender skirt that reached to her bare ankles. A bright yellow neckerchief and its accompanying decorative dragon's head woggle sat on the bench beside her, temporarily discarded along with a heavy worker's apron. Sweat had already started to soak a trio of dark 'V's beneath her arms and between her breasts, and her sleeves were rolled up well past her elbows, revealing a thin strip of fair skin that the sun had yet to bake to the healthy bronze of her forearms and face. A bright yellow sunhat was perched upon her head in order to shade her cobalt-blue eyes, and her work boots had been shucked and tucked carefully beneath the seat next to a well-oiled crossbow, allowing her long legs to swing freely. The most stunning physical feature to behold, however, was her hair; a rich, fiery crimson whose colors and hues rivaled those of a sailor's twilight. Her name was Malon Lon, and she was utterly miserable.

It was hot. As in, _really_ hot. So hot that her simple working dress was clinging to her like a second skin. Her camisole was already soaked through with sweat, and her mane of auburn hair was matted to her head beneath her sunhat. The wind blew gently across the plains of Hyrule Field, but only strong enough for her to note and curse its fickle presence. She could feel the rivulets of sweat rolling down her cheeks and neck before soaking into her collar, doing little to cool her heated skin.

Upon reaching a relatively straight stretch of the road, Malon laid the reins down on her lap and plucked the broad-billed sunhat off of her head, using it to fan herself. It was one of those days, the kind where it seemed as if summer had come back to exact its final gasping vengeance on the kingdom before giving way to true autumn. Her almanac back at the ranch said that cooler days were supposedly just around the corner. She hoped it was right. In her opinion, a good, mild Hyrule winter couldn't arrive soon enough.

She sighed and drank deeply from her water flask, which had already become uncomfortably warm. Her clothes felt stifling, and the damp spot on her chest had already reached her belly. Replacing the hat upon her head and gripping the reins with one hand, she settled for peeling the sticky garment away from her chest and fanning herself with it instead, just to get some cooler air against her feverish skin. It helped, a little.

She wondered idly how Epona was holding up. The mare was strong – the strongest horse she had ever had the pleasure of rearing, in fact – and she seemed to be handling the heat quite well, but Malon knew that pulling the heavy wagon beneath today's sun had to be taking its toll on her. She hoped that they could reach the river soon so that Epona could have a well-earned drink. To be honest, she wouldn't mind one herself. Just the thought of dipping her cupped hands into the perpetually icy-cold Zora River and splashing her face was enough to help her bear the heat, at least for a little while longer.

Malon sighed again. "Just a little farther, Epona. Then we can take a small break," She reassured the mare.

Epona snorted and shook her mane, though it was a half-hearted gesture as they plodded along. Yes, the mare could definitely use a good drink and half a candlemark's rest, maybe a nice brushing while they were at it. Or maybe she could just dip her legs in the water for a few minutes. The idea tickled the back of her mind as they continued on, and as she continued to dwell on it she really couldn't find any reason that she shouldn't take a quick dip. The cool river would feel _sooo_ good on her skin...

Her head jerked upright, and she blinked lazily before shaking her head and quietly chastising herself. To nod off daydreaming about dipping her feet in the river? Irresponsible. She rolled her shoulders and willed the wagon to travel faster.

Goddesses above, it was hot.

The sun hadn't even reached its zenith in the cloudless sky, and yet it cast everything about her in a blurry, humid haze, causing her to sometimes see bodies of water where none existed. Tricks of the light or playful spirits, she didn't know. What she did know was that if she continued on this road it should lead her right past the edge of the river where it swept closest to the road. In fact, just around the curve of this hill here...

_Ah,_ She thought, and smiled brightly at the sight. _There you are._

The river spread out before her, winding through the hills like a great dark snake for as far as the eye could see. The waters of the broad river swept down from the eastern foothills, bringing an endless supply of fresh, clean water to the lower fields. The bend here swept in so that the road was only several yards away, making it a popular spot to stop and water the horses for those few traders that plied the western routes. Luckily there was no one else in sight.

When they reached the edge of the river, it took her a moment to bring Epona to a complete stop. The mare was impatient. It could smell the water, it could _see_ the water, so it didn't like having to wait for the water, but Malon brought her around skillfully before setting the wheelbrake.

"Calm down, girl," She said soothingly. "It would be just my luck if you got it into your head to drag the entire wagon into the river,"

Epona did not answer, merely staring with a quiet longing at the river's edge as her owner went about the business of securing the wagon. Malon decided to forgo her boots and sunhat and lowered herself to the ground gently, mindful of sharp rocks. She hummed a wordless tune and ran a calming hand along the great mare's flank as Epona cantered in place impatiently. Within seconds she had unhooked Epona's harness from the tug loops, a full decade of experience lending her the swiftness she desired. As soon as the horse sensed it was free it trotted forward, eagerly stepping into the river and stooping its long neck to drink.

Malon followed to the river's edge and was delighted to find her favorite drinking spot untouched; a flat shalestone that extended a meter out over the water, allowing her a dry perch to kneel and drink from. She bent low, dipping her fingers deep into the swiftly flowing river. She noted with interest that the water was definitely warmer than she remembered – a testament to the unnatural seasonal temperatures, she thought – but it was still pleasantly cool against her fingers. She dipped her hands deeper, allowing the water to cool the pulse in her wrists, then cupped her hands and brought the precious liquid to her mouth, closed her eyes, savored it as it flowed past her lips and spilled over her chin.

Delicious.

She drank two more handfuls before standing, having decided that it was too laborious a process. She allowed herself a smile as she stepped daintily into the river, first one foot, then the other. She felt just like a little girl again, when she was first allowed to go with her father on a trip to Lake Hylia. She had been afraid at first, but then she grew to love it, shrieking and laughing and splashing the water in all directions. She had loved to go diving, to find tiny crabs or pretty shells that she would eagerly bring back for her father's inspection like valuable treasure. Her father, having spent all of his life landbound, had warned her about the many dangers of deep water, and had seemed anxious whenever she had immersed herself past her waist. Luckily, Malon had not inherited her father's phobia of the deep, and relished every rare opportunity she was given to swim.

She lifted her skirt to mid-thigh as she stepped deeper in the river, even though in reflection it was probably a silly thing to do considering what she was planning, finally dropping the hem as the water flowed past her knees. It clung to her long legs, swirling effervescently with the current. She waded in several meters until the river rose up to envelope her waist, soaking the hem of her blouse. The current was a gentle but persistent pressure, and the pebbles on the riverbed were smooth and soft on the soles of her feet. The water felt wonderful against her skin, but even as she tried to enjoy it, she was reminded uncomfortably of the sun beating down on her upper half. She felt that she would not be totally satisfied if she was only able to cool half of her body. She glanced behind her towards the road almost guiltily, but her courage was bolstered when she saw that there was still no one else in sight.

_ Well, why not?_

All pretense of propriety forgotten, she knelt in the shallows and bent forward, luxuriating in its liquid coolness as she lowered herself, shivering slightly as the water flowed past her belly, breasts, shoulders, and finally her throat. Epona drank and watched her curiously from the river's edge, but seemed to feel no desire to follow her owner deeper into the water. On a whim, Malon inhaled deeply and completely submerged herself, allowing the river to flow over her and cleanse the sweat from her body.

Everything felt the same as it had when she was younger. The tingle of bubbles trapped against her scalp, the slight sense of pressure on her eyes and ears. The old thrill of excitement came back tenfold, and she propelled herself with a swift kick into deeper water. It was a different world beneath the surface of the river, a world where the shadows mingled with the light, touched it and played with it in ways that seemed surreal, dreamlike. The smooth stones of the river bottom glinted in an earthy rainbow of blacks and browns and reds, and the occasional bulbous fish could be seen making its home in the shallow eddies, staring back in quiet awe at this awkward intruder in their aquatic realm. It was a dreamworld, like the faerie tales her mother had told her as a little girl, and she cherished every second of it.

Finally, the desire for air ended her brief sojourn. She broke the surface with the grace (in her mind, at least) of a Zora princess and swam back towards the shallows, whipping the hair back from her face with a quick toss. As soon as her feet touched the smooth bottom, she leaned forward again and allowed the river to flow directly between her lips.

Mmm. Drinking straight from the river... nothing like it in the world.

As soon as she had drunk her fill she stepped from the river, intent on retrieving a brush for Epona, but stopped when she caught sight of a man's legs standing on the far side of the wagon. She froze instantly, like a wild hare caught in the gaze of a hungry wolfos, but the man couldn't see her from where he was standing. From what she could see, he seemed to be inspecting the wagon.

Malon cursed herself for leaving the crossbow in the wagon. She didn't have many options. She couldn't just ignore the man and hope he wandered away, and she wouldn't be able to get Epona hooked back up without him realizing she was there. Abandoning the wagon was out of the question as well. Talking to him looked like the only available option.

Her decision made, Malon affected an air of friendly indifference. "Can I help you, sir?" She called out, crossing her arms across her chest, uncomfortably aware of the curves of her chest and waist in her wet clothes.

The man's legs tensed, then cautiously made their way around towards the front of the wagon. Malon's eyes swept over the man as he stepped into view, and she didn't like what she saw. Like many of the poorer denizens of Hyrule in the wake of Ganondorf's _coup d'etat_, he was dressed rather shabbily, wearing anything he could scavenge or steal. In point of fact, his trousers and threadbare coat were in desperate need of tailoring, but he had somehow managed to get his hands on a relatively clean dandy's top-hat. The effect was absurd, like dressing a rodent for a palace masque... not that Malon had ever had the pleasure of attending a masque, of course. Except for the spotless hat, nothing on the man looked as if it had been washed in months, and the smell coming off of him alone – even at this distance – was enough to confirm her suspicions. A vagabond, possibly an outlaw, or a bandit even. Whatever he was, Malon sensed trouble.

The man offered a toothy grin as Malon approached the wagon on the opposite side. She held back a grimace at what passed for teeth in the man's mouth. Hygienic he was not. "G'day tya," He said, tipping his hat. His eyes darted from her, to Epona, to the wagon, and finally back to her. "Fine lookin' wagon thar. Don s'pose you'd be in a helpful mood, woudja? See, me an a few o' the boys were makin' fer Labrynna, an' we could really use a ride."

"Seems like you managed to get this far just fine by walking," Malon said coolly.

A second man stepped out from behind the first, and Malon tensed. He was shorter and if possible even scruffier than the first man. "We jus' wanna lift darlin', is all. It's jus' so awfully hot out here..."

Malon's smile was saccharine sweet. "Sorry, but my Daddy always said to never give rides to strangers."

"Then let's get more acquainted." A third man said, stepping out from behind the wagon on her left side.

Malon cursed herself again for her carelessness. She had to give them credit. She hadn't noticed how many of them had actually approached the wagon while she was swimming. Careless and stupid. They had probably been close by, just waiting for some poor unsuspecting soul to stop and take a drink from the river before they moved in, and she had walked right into it.

The third man was still walking towards her, while the second man was slowly making his was around to the right, moving into what her father would call a pincer manoeuvre. Her left hand twitched, and she glanced towards the wagon. She could see her crossbow, stowed beneath the wagon's bench, out of sight of the bandits. But the bandits – and that was exactly what they were, no matter what garbage they spewed about being downtrodden wanderers – were much too close for comfort. Would they back off when faced with a weapon? Would she even be able to grab it and bring it to bear before they overpowered her?

She moved just as the second man was about to come around the harnessing shafts, leaping up and scrambling onto the bench. Her fingers closed around the wooden haft of the crossbow and she silently thanked her father for those years of practice as she drew back the lever to charge the bolt. The man in the top hat was yelling and reaching for a dagger, but it would be the man behind her – the third man who had come around the back of the wagon – that was closest, and thus, her immediate worry.

Her first shot was hastily fired as she spun, but her aim was true. The nearest bandit was already halfway up the wagon behind her when the bolt crossed the distance between them and imbedded itself in his chest. He fell back and collapsed to the ground with a surprised gurgle, and Malon was drawing the second bolt in place when she felt a sudden harsh tug on the back of her dress and was yanked bodily from the wagon. She cried out as the crossbow was ripped from her hands and she was dragged to the ground, then hauled to her feet, her arms held tightly behind her by one of the men. More bandits appeared around her as she struggled, until finally she was surrounded by a small posse.

"Dumb bitch shot Jerod dead." One of the men called out from the other side of the wagon.

"Never did like 'im very much anyway. Just means more for us anyhow," The man in the top-hat – presumably their leader – laughed, then turned to one of the other men. "Go see what we caught ourselves this time. I'm feelin' lucky today."

"Keep away from my wagon, and LET ME _GO!_" Malon cried as she wrenched against her captor's vice-like grip.

One of the men brought out his knife and waved it threateningly beneath her throat. "You look awfully hot, baby," He said, aiming lower and drawing the flat of the blade between her breasts. "Meybe ya should think about takin' off some dem wet clothes before ya faint."

Her rebuttal was a wad of spit in the man's eye. The rest of the group dissolved into chortling laughter and catcalls as the man spluttered and wiped at his face with a grimy sleeve. The man holding her had let her go as he keeled over onto his hands and knees and seemed to be having trouble drawing breath, but there were still too many of them surrounding her for her to risk making a break for it. "Ah, looks like we gots ourselves a real fiesty one," One of them called out.

The man with the knife became furious, his face mottled with rage. He advanced, holding the knife out as if about to stick a wild boar. "Fuckin' little—"

"Hey boss," One of the men in the wagon called out, causing the knife wielding thug to stop in his tracks. Greed beat rage with these men, it seemed.

The man in the wagon appeared with a bottle of milk in his hand, which he tossed carelessly over the side. It shattered on the ground, spilling the precious white liquid everywhere. "Ain't nothin' back here but a buncha shit in sacks and some boxes full of milk."

Their leader looked slightly disappointed. "What kinda shit?"

"_Shit_ shit."

Top-hat planted his hands on his hips and frowned at Malon as if she had done him some personal injustice. "Why're you cartin' shit and milk around fer?"

_Stall!_ "It's fertilizer," Malon said, but this only seemed to confuse the poor men around her. She desperately resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "It helps people's crops grow. I was on my way to New Ordon to sell them."

"Got no use fer ferta-lizard," The bandit to her left said dumbly. "But at least we guts us a nice herse."

"And a good ride too, eh?" Cackled the one behind her before he lightly slapped her buttocks. Malon jumped and let out a squeak of surprise and embarrassment, which elicited another raucous round of laughter from the rest of the group.

"Yeah, can't ferget that," The leader laughed with a feral grin. "So how's about it, baby? Feel up to showin' me an' my boys a good time?"

"The moon'll fall out of the sky first," Malon muttered, only following the conversation with her ears as her eyes darted around the group of men, desperately looking for an exit.

"Haw?"

Her anger got the best of her, and she focused her eyes like a thousand archers on the idiot talking to her. "I said_ when pigs fly, slop-for-brains!_" She shouted, causing Top-hat to take a step back.

"Gots a good mouth on her," Said one of the bandits, who then chuckled, pleased with his own innuendo.

The boss sneered, apparently embarrassed at having his cohorts laugh at him, and shoved his face in close to hers. His hand shot out, a craggy claw of skin and bones, and wrapped around her jaw like a gargoyle's talon. She fought back the tears as his unkempt fingernails burrowed into her soft skin and squeezed her lips into a pucker. "So how's 'bout we just roll on somewheres nice an' you can show me what else that pretty little mouth o' yers is good fer?" He said, his voice now dangerously quiet.

Pure, unadulterated rage shot through her like a fiery lance, and Malon showed him what she thought of that idea. Her bare foot came up, catching the overconfident man straight in the family gems.

The man went down, grabbing at his groin and shrieking in pain at octaves that probably didn't come naturally to him. The man that had released her earlier made a grab for her elbow, but the sweat and river water dripping from her clothes actually worked to her advantage. She slid from his grasp before he was able to get a grip and kicked him in the kneecap, then clawed at a third man that make to grab ahold of her wrist, drawing blood as her nails raked across his face. He screamed and clasped his hands to the bloody gouges across his eyelids. Then she turned and ran through the opening the man had given her.

She was free, but she didn't plan on sticking around to enjoy it. She raced towards Epona, who was thankfully still standing in the shallows, which allowed her a much easier leg up. In one swift motion she leapt from the flat rock she had laid on earlier and mounted the mare, fear and adrenalin driving her faster than the remaining group of stunned and enraged bandits could keep up. She slapped the reins down and they were off, Epona giving a frightened whinny as the men closed in behind them. River water kicked up around her in a torrential spray as the mare bolted through the shallows and back onto the road. Malon didn't look back at the shouts and curses directed at her, didn't look back as she felt grimy hands grasp at the hem of her skirt, yanking at her waist and tearing off a large strip of fabric.

Her mind raced as she urged Epona into a gallop, fear and rage and shame churning in her stomach like sour milk. The wagon and everything in it would be a loss. She had no idea how she would explain it all to Ingo, but at least she would escape unharmed, untainted by those twisted deviants. At least she and Epona would still be saf—

The world darkened with pain, and she distantly felt a heavy impact on the side of her head. The reins fell from her grasp, and she saw the world spin as she slipped from the saddle, hills and trees switching places and spinning twirly-whirly with the sky and the clouds as Epona galloped away. On the roof of the world? Such a strange horse. Then the earth came up/down and knocked the breath from her lungs as she landed on her back.

Several pairs of booted feet filled her swimming field of vision, and a large rock fell to the ground by her head. "Good shot, Lenny!" One of the men said.

"Thankee, boss," Lenny replied, sounding as pleased as if he had bagged himself a feast after a particularly long hunt.

Malon's vision swam as she tried to focus her eyes, but the world refused to cooperate and continued to drift in slow, lazy circles. Prickly tufts of grass pressed into her cheek. Ticklish. Smelled good, too. Oops, and there were the hands, those dirty dirty hands, grasping and groping and touching...

She was hauled roughly to her feet, and one of the men slapped her several times across the face, drawing a thin trickle of blood from her split lip. Shock and dread pierced the tumbling fog of her mind and sharpened her focus on the hands that we now holding her immobilized from several different angles.

"Let go of me!"

The leader _tsk_'d. "Now now, baby, don't be lake dat. We just want a lil taste o' wut you got, tha's all," A craggy hand shot down to her inner thigh and began to move suggestively upwards.

Terror flitted through her mind. _No. Not like this. Sweet Nayru, anything but this._

The bandit behind her cupped a dirty hand around her chin and mouth, pulling her head backwards while provocatively running his thumb across her lips, and she bit down out of instinct, hard. Grime and coppery blood flooded her mouth, then sparks flashed across her vision as the cursing bandit swatted at the back of her head. But the bandit didn't have the leverage to do any real harm, so in a desperate bid to save what was left of his thumb he thrust her forcefully away from him. Malon went down in a sprawl, and she winced as the sharp pebbles in the road cut into her palms. She spit the bloody scrap of flesh into the dust, knowing with an icy certainty that her own blood would probably be joining it very soon.

The was no room in her mind left for cognitive thought. As their kicks landed against her stomach and thighs and the gnarled hands closed around her and dragged her through the dirt, there was only room for pure animal instinct. She thrashed wildly, but aside from a low curse when her fist caught the chin of a man reaching for her she was only rewarded with more vicious kicks. A tumultuous swirl of emotions filled her. Fear, anger at herself for being so weak, and the dreaded certainty that she would not enjoy her final moments before they grew bored with her and she was allowed to die.

With one last surge of rational thought, Malon opened her mouth, and she screamed.

"_HEEEEEEEELP!_"

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Please remember to review.

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	3. Chapter 2: Just in Time

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:  
**

Next chapter might be delayed a bit. Full chapter notes are available on my profile page.

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Chapter 2: Just in Time

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Goddesses above, it was hot.

Link sighed and closed his eyes, letting the hand that grasped his ocarina fall to the side as he willed the heat of the noonday sun away. He lay beneath the shade of a mighty hardwood, the lone sentinel of this particular hilltop in the middle of Hyrule Field. It was his favorite spot for kilometers (which probably wasn't saying much), simply because its broad leaves shielded him and his faerie companion from the furious wrath of the harsh sun. His sheathed sword and quiver rested against the white trunk, momentarily forgotten, while his shield was currently serving as a makeshift pillow. Not the most comfortable pillow in the world to be sure, but it would suffice for a few candlemarks of quiet napping.

"Why is it so _hooot_?" Navi whimpered from her usual orbit around his head, her voice taking on a singsong tenor. Link tried to hold back a smile. Navi could be annoying at times, sure, but sometimes, rarely, she could almost be called cute.

"No use complaining, I suppose," He said, shifting slightly to a more comfortable position and wiping a bead of sweat off his cheek. "Best just to enjoy what little breeze we can."

Another reason for picking this hill; it was one of the tallest in the field, allowing him to enjoy a halfway decent breeze while he fiddled with his ocarina and thought about his current predicament. As it turned out, there was a very good reason that he was napping on a hill instead of continuing his quest to release the seven sages. It had been nearly two weeks since he had cleansed the water temple and, to be honest, he had no idea where he was supposed to go next. It was frustrating knowing that you were so close to your final objective with no obvious way to get there. It also didn't help matters that Sheik, the Master of Bafflement himself hadn't shown his covered face since the ice cavern behind Zora's Domain. It seemed unusually unlike the young Sheikah. He seemed to show up after the successful completion of one of Link's little spelunking expeditions with his familiar song-and-tune show. It had come as a most welcome relief when he hadn't shown himself after Link had awakened Ruto as the Sage of Water, but now…

"Gee, it sure would be great if I could get a _hint_ right about now!" Link called out to no one in particular.

Only the wind and a whisper of leaves answered, not that he had expected anything else. Sheik did not appear to provide him with a new riddle, and Ruto seemed to have followed the usual path of a reawakened Sage by refusing to answer any direct questions. Hell, he hadn't even seen hide nor feather of that longwinded Kaepora Gaebora. What he would give to have that damnable owl pop up to give him even a smidgen of a clue...

_ Everyone's disappeared just when I need their help the most,_ He thought with a huff, then settled back and blew a random melody through his ocarina.

"Aw, cheer up grumpy. Look at it this way; At least we get a little vacation," Navi chimed. "You'd think after that last temple that you'd enjoy a little break."

Link had to concede the point, but wisely kept the thought to himself. No need to give her anything more to gloat about, after all. After he had defeated that amorphous blob of… _something_… in the water temple, he had thought that he could use a well-deserved break. Really, how many other people in all of Hyrule had to put up with fighting giant amoeba monsters that could smack you into a bed of conveniently placed _spikes_ and couldn't be stabbed to death like any normal creature? He was lucky to have escaped from that one without looking like a chunk of Labrynan cheese.

He opened his eyes. "But two weeks? I thought I was doing something, you know, _important_. I didn't realize that saving the kingdom could be put on hiatus so easily," Link growled in frustration. "Where is that damn Sheikah when you need him?"

Navi gave a quick bob – the faerie equivalent of a shrug – which, from Link's perspective, looked as if she grew momentarily larger before reverting back to normal. "Maybe he's dead?"

"Heh, we should be so lucky."

"You shouldn't say things like that. I think Sheik's a nice boy," Navi said.

Link closed his eyes again and waved a flippant hand in the air as if to ward away her compliments. "He's creepy and obnoxious. He's obviously got fighting talents that might even surpass my own, and yet all he ever does is spew riddles and songs and save his own hide whenever there's the slightest hint of danger. What's he hiding under that mask of his, anyways?"

Another bob-shrug from the faerie. "Maybe he's got a snaggletooth," She ventured, then brightened. "Ooh! Or maybe, when he was really young, his house caught fire and he was trapped in the wreckage, and it burned his body from the nose down."

Link was quiet for several moments, merely staring at his companion with one cracked eye. "And you say my imagination is morbid," He said, needling her with a smile.

Navi's shade flashed a light pink for a moment in embarrassment. "It's just a thought…"

They fell quiet once more, Navi keeping silent watch as Link relaxed and practiced with his ocarina. Memories swirled through his thoughts as he played through his repertoire of tunes, the faces of old friends and places he had left behind. Saria, who had given him his first ocarina. The Sacred Meadow, where he had snuck off to many a night to practice with the skullchildren. The young Princess Zelda, who, in desperate flight, had thrown him the instrument that he was currently playing; the Ocarina of Time. Lon Lon Ranch, where he had spent many carefree days before being locked in the Temple of Time. He practiced the magical songs he had learned as well, minus several key notes of course in order to avoid activating them. Hot as it was, he felt that summoning a monsoon would not be in his best interest. It certainly hadn't worked out for him the last time he'd tried it. Epona's Song was perhaps the safest of all the songs he hadn't taught himself, and he played it regularly. It also happened to be one of his favorites.

As the last notes of Epona's Song echoed on the breeze, Navi dipped low. "You're getting better," She said appreciatively.

A tired "Hmm," was all he could manage in reply.

"Used to be that I couldn't stand your horrid screeching," Navi continued.

He waved a gloved hand half-heartedly in her direction. "Shoo, bug. Don't bother me."

"Ugh… I can't even muster the energy to be angry at you for that one…" She fluttered briefly, distracted, then swooped down so that she was closer to Link. "Hey, take a look at that."

Link crossed his arms over his eyes. "Nooo, don't wanna… s'too hot," He moaned.

Navi jingled. "No, seriously, I think something's coming this way."

Link propped himself up on his elbows and turned to look in the direction that Navi was hovering.

At first he didn't see what she was talking about, but Navi darted forward several meters, allowing her glow to direct his eyes towards the figure rapidly approaching across the field. It galloped along the rise of a hill, sleek muscle and sinew rippling beneath its earthen-brown coat, following a long arc as it ran.

He stood to get a better view. Beautiful horse. Was it wild? There was a time when great herds of wild horses ran Hyrule Field, but that age was long past. There weren't many wild horses any more, ever since Ganondorf's minions had corralled them all up for the war effort.

A flash of white caught his eye as the horse approached, illuminated against golden chestnut. _Wow. White-manes are really rare, even in the Gerudo bloodlines. The last one I remember seeing was—_

"Link, isn't that…?"

It clicked in his mind as the horse came to a cantering stop in front of him.

"Epona?"

It _was_ her. Seven years older, of course, like everything else had become after his imprisonment inside of the Temple of Time, but the mare was as familiar to him as his own sword and shield. Memories flooded him, and he smiled as he remembered the young red-headed girl that had first introduced him to this amazing horse. His smile faltered, however, when he remembered just how much the waves of Time had eroded the kingdom around him. Did Malon still own Epona? Did she still live at Lon Lon Ranch? Was she even alive? He at once craved and dreaded the answers, and was ashamed that he had not attempted to call on her before now.

Epona nickered and pranced in agitated circles. She was fitted with full tack – unusual in itself for Epona, who had developed an intense dislike for all forms of saddlery – and was even equipped with a specialized breast strap, as if someone had planned to harness her to a wagon or carriage. But here she was, prancing back and forth, alone. Very strange.

Navi fluttered back and forth. "Uh, Link? I don't speak a lot of Horse, but I think she's trying to tell you something's wrong."

Epona snorted, as if confirming the faerie's suspicions. She lowered her head and butted Link gently in the chest, which he recognized as her familiar way of saying, _'Get a move on!'_

Link smiled again, running a gloved hand across the horse's snout before turning to retrieve his gear. As soon as his equipment was firmly in its proper place on his back and Navi had tucked herself into his cap, he grabbed ahold of Epona's thick mane and hoisted himself up into the saddle. The great mare wheeled around with a high whinny and was off like a bolt of lightning before he even had time to put his feet in the stirrups.

It felt good to ride a horse again, especially one as powerful as Epona. He bent low as the wind began to tug at him, and it all came rushing back to him in a surge of adrenalin. All of that time spent at Lon Lon Ranch in the past had helped hone his natural talent with her, and it felt as if he had just ridden her yesterday.

Link felt a gentle tug on his bangs. "What do you think she's in such a rush for?" Navi yelled over the wind.

Link didn't answer, fearing that he already knew and hoping that it wasn't true. Malon had once told him that Epona was the most precious thing in the world to her besides her father. There were very few reasons that the horse would be running wild in full harness, and none of them were good.

The ride across the plains was exhilarating. Eventually they came upon a well-worn road that snaked through the hills. They followed it for some time, Epona kicking up a long dust trail behind them as she galloped. As they rounded a hill, they were greeted by the sight of a grey-blue swath of river that swept close to the road. A familiar looking wagon stood off in the grass, and Link could see several figures milling around, most of them surrounding the limp form of a _very_ familiar redhead. His pulse hummed at the knowledge that Malon was still alive after all these years, and it was with great reluctance that he didn't charge straight into the midst of the men surrounding her. With a quick pull of the reins he slowed Epona and guided her up the back side of the hill, allowing himself to get as close to the wagon as possible without being seen. He buckled his shield securely to his forearm just in case one of the men got cute and tried something before he had a chance to talk them down, but left his sword sheathed. No need to antagonize them before he had a chance to talk to them, he thought.

Navi ducked out from beneath his cap and resumed her usual orbit as they slowed. "I saw them. Looks like we might be in for a bit of a fight."

"Looks like," Link agreed with a sigh, allowing Epona to crest the hill.

There were five… no, six of them, all spread out around the wagon. Two of them were busy tying Malon's arms and legs with lengths of rope, and one was busy digging around in the back of the wagon. They were all in varying states of dress, though it was obvious that none of them were very well off. They seemed to be dressed in whatever suited them, from thick leather hides (almost suicidal in this weather) to a maid's bonnet tied around one man's throat. One of them was even wearing a ridiculous looking top-hat and seemed exceptionally proud of it, since it was the cleanest article of clothing on the entire bunch.

Two of the bandits turned as he approached and drew Epona to a cantering stop, but the rest paid him no mind, avarice for the spoils of their ambush overcoming any curiosity regarding the newcomer.

"Let the girl go," He said loud and calmly, though he was anything but. If they had hurt her, violence would quickly ensue.

That got their attention. Most of the men turned to regard the stranger with barely concealed scorn, though the one in the wagon continued rooting around in the back. The closest bandit gave him the once over, then sneered. "Don't listen to no snot nosed punks. 'specially a punk in a clown costume."

Link let that one slide and crossed his arms, letting his shield rest across his abdomen. _If only these guys had a mirror..._ "Not sure what your usual attitude towards clowns is, but I'd suggest listening to this one. There doesn't need to be any more violence. Take the wagon if you must, but leave the girl."

"Jus' who do you think you are?"

Link felt his eyes fall to half mast, his mind set. He knew enough about scum like this to know that they wouldn't be listening to reason. "A minor annoyance or your quick and painful death. Your choice."

"Keh, I'm thinkin' yer outnumerd kid."

"And I'm thinking that you weren't burdened with an over-abundance of schooling," He shot back, letting his hand drop to the old Sheikah scroll pinned to the back of his shield. "Now pay attention, because I'm only going to say this one more time: Let. Her. Go."

As he talked, the warrior portion of Link's mind assessed the men in front of him. One was limping awkwardly and another had a bloody cut over his eye. A third was favoring his hand, limp-wristed as he struggled to get a purchase on something within the wagon.

_Good girl, Malon,_ He thought proudly. At least she had been able to inflict some minor injuries before they overwhelmed her. They didn't seem like very competent thieves, so their fighting skills were most likely sub-par. Good news for him, very bad news for them.

His fingers finally brushed against the papyrus inlaid against his shield, and Link felt the tingle of ancient Sheikah magic shoot its way through his fingertips as he tapped the stylized rendition of a bow near the top left edge of the parchment and muttered "_Adeat,_" the ancient Sheikahn word that Impa had taught him to activate the scroll. As he withdrew his hand, the faerie-worked wood of his shortbow followed with a sparkling blue-white luminescence that emanated from the scroll. Several of the bandits had turned and watched Link maliciously as he worked his magic.

The bandit with the maid's bonnet saw what he was withdrawing and brandished his sword. He pointed it at Link in what he must have thought a grand gesture. "Let's kill that pun—!" The bandit's words ended in a sickening gargle as Link's arrow tore through his throat.

"Five left," Navi announced cheerfully.

Link smiled and reached for another arrow. He was half tempted to reach for a bomb to put a quick end to this, but the risk to Malon and the wagon was too great. Ah well. He had plenty of arrows left.

Steel flashed in the midday sun as the remaining bandits drew their blades.

"Shield!" Navi cried.

He didn't even have time to think as he raised his shield arm to protect his face, instantly reacting to Navi's warning. Link felt his shoulder absorb the hard impact of a crossbow bolt as it imbedded itself deep in his shield, its thick iron tip penetrating an inch below the scroll. _Stupid,_ he reprimanded himself. _I didn't see any ranged weapons on them..._

He caught sight of the bandit up in the wagon desperately fiddling with the crossbow's dislodged magazine. The bandit was either in a panic or he didn't seem to know the weapon very well, since he was trying to load the magazine backwards.

Navi darted restlessly. "You're vulnerable up here. Time to show those bandits what you're made of!"

She was right. In one fluid motion he slipped from the saddle and slapped Epona on the rump with a loud "Hyah!" Epona bolted through the crowd, plowing through two of the bandits who were stupid enough to try to stop a charging horse.

Two thousand pounds of charging muscle can do horrible things to a person. One of the men was thrown bodily against the wagon, his chin catching the edge of the footrest as he fell. Link could hear the sick crackle of bones snapping from where he stood, and the man landed awkwardly with his neck twisted at a very odd looking angle. He made no move to get up.

_ Four more to go…_ Link thought, pressing the bow back into his scroll and drawing his sword as he advanced.

The bandit in the top hat rushed him, screaming a wordless battle cry and raising his sword above his head in a loose two-handed grip.

Link smirked. _These guys have probably never been in a real fight before in their lives.._. He sidestepped, letting the bandit's blade slide across his own and directing the man's momentum upward, then pivoted, swinging his right arm around and smashing his attacker in the face with his shield.

Mr. Hat cried out as his nose flattened itself against his skull. He stumbled back, dazed as blood began to pour from his ruined nose. Link reversed his spin and brought the biting edge of his blade across the man's back, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

The last two bandits charged at once, screaming as they came. Link feinted left but spun and sidestepped right as one sliced down vertically with his sword, sailing past Link as his momentum carried him forward. Link brought his blade up, catching the second man's blade across the pommel and thrusting back and upwards, causing the bandit to lose his balance for one critical moment. That gave Link enough time to bring his sword back down in a powerful two-handed strike, catching the stunned bandit across his right shoulder and opening him up to his left hip. The man collapsed as blood and viscera spilled from the mortal wound and turned the dirt beneath their feet to mud.

"Bastard!"

Link spun at the shout, ducking beneath the returning bandit's wild swing and bringing his blade around and across his front at stomach level. Both the blade and the bandit kept going, which was very unfortunate for the bandit. A long stream of scarlet splashed against the side of the wagon while the bandit's top and bottom half tried to run off in two different directions. Neither was very successful, and both crumpled to the ground a short distance away.

Link returned to a defensive stance and surveyed the field of the short-lived battle. When no one else stepped forward to confront him, he flicked his sword to remove the majority of ichor, the remaining blood sizzling as the blade's magical aura burned it from its brilliant surface. A job well done, he thought, even if he did have a new hole in his shield.

A soft snort to his left. He turned, glad to see that Epona had not run far and had returned when things had settled down. "Hey there, girl," He said, giving the horse a comforting pat, then wrinkling his nose as the familiar battlefield scents of blood and voided bowels reached him. He realized sadly that he was growing used to the smell; the first time he had experienced the aftermath of such a battle he had spent half a candlemark retching in the woods.

"Link, he's got Malon!"

Link spun, his sword swinging into an _en garde_ position at Navi's warning.

The man with the crossbow had abandoned the weapon, and was now struggling to hold the unconscious form of Malon in something resembling a standing position while keeping a wicked looking dagger pressed perilously close to her throat.

Link's jaw tightened as he shifted, furious with himself for forgetting the idiot in the wagon. "Hiding behind a defenseless young woman?" He spat on the ground. "Yeah, some badass you are. Your friends here would be proud."

"Drop yer sword boy, er I'll cut the fucking wench."

Link frowned. "And cursing in front of a lady, no less," He taunted, but did as the bandit said, giving his sword a quick twirl before thrusting it into the loamy ground blade first. "What would your mother think?"

"Don't need no preachin' from ah dumbass brat," The bandit spat.

"Ya know, it's really too hot out here to deal with you fools for much longer." Link said, letting his fingers brush against the underside of his shield. He pursed his lips and gave a sharp whistle, then nodded at the bandit. "Navi, sic 'im."

The faerie darted forward, letting loose with a sound that was half battle cry, half maniacal giggle as she flared to a stop mere inches from the bandit's face. Brilliant sparks erupted out from her body in all directions, flashing all of the colors of the rainbow in a pyrotechnics show that even Link found painful to look at from ten meters away.

As predicted, the bandit jerked away from the flashing lights. "The hell—_ghk!_" His eyes crossed as the arrow embedded itself deep into his forehead with a meaty _thwk_. He began a slow crumple backwards before collapsing into the dirt, dead.

"Great job, Navi." Link said, transmuting his bow back into the Sheikah scroll, then sword and shield across his back before approaching the unconscious form of Malon, now sprawled across the bandit's slowly cooling corpse.

Navi gave a delicate sniff of mock disdain. "And you say that all I'm good for is complaining."

"I don't say that," He professed as he crouched and ran his fingers across Malon's throat, breathing a sigh of relief when he found a strong pulse and steady breathing. He pretended to think for a moment before glancing at Navi with an innocent smile. "Well, to your face."

He ignored Navi's squawk of dismay and focused his attention on his old friend as he picked her up in a soldier's carry. The past seven and a half years seemed to have been good to her, unlike many he had met in the three months since he had awoken in the burnt out ruins of the Temple of Time. She had lost the scrawny, clumsy frame of a nine-year-old girl and had blossomed into a lovely young woman of... how old would she be now? Sixteen, he thought. Her Namingday would still be several months off, if he recalled correctly. _My, how Time flies…_

Her face was serene, as if she didn't have a care in the world, though the peppering of bruises and drying streaks of blood welling up from her lip and temple laid that lie bare. He noted with interest that her luxurious hair, ever her pride and joy, had grown out even more than the last time he had seen her, reaching all the way down to her lower back. He had to adjust his grip to avoid pulling on it as it spilled out around his arms.

Satisfied that she was safe for the time being, he carried her towards the back of the wagon. He sent a silent prayer to Farore that she woke up soon.

* * *

Have a question or just a nice comment? Think it's the worst trash you've ever read? You've read the chapter, so it's time to review!

Ciao!  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	4. Chapter 3: Savior

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:  
**

This story is loosely based on the Ocarina of Time video game. Many events happened as you might remember them, but some things happened different in this story, and will be noted where relevant.

* * *

Chapter 3: Savior

* * *

Goddesses, her head hurt.

Pain pulsed a dull staccato behind her eyes as reality slowly swam back into focus. Soft shadows obscured the gently swaying lamp and canvas cover of the wagon overhead. Her vision swam as her eyes found it difficult to focus on any one thing, as if the world were made of quicksilver, slippery and intangible. It was only made worse by the fact that her breathing came in soft little pants, causing eruptions of pain down her side and her vision to darken momentarily when she attempted to breath too deeply. She could feel the deep, aching burn of bruises beginning to form all across her body. She hadn't felt this bad since she had been thrown and nearly trampled to death by that stallion a couple years back.

Malon reached up with tentative fingers to probe her throbbing temple, dislodging a moist strip of cloth that fell across her face. She plucked it from her nose and stared at it cross-eyed, confused before she recognized it as a piece of her skirt, damp with river water. Irritation flashed through her, then anger that someone would dare rip her skirt, which quickly morphed into a spike of fear as she remembered exactly _how_ it had been ripped in the first place. Panic seized her her heart with an iron grip and she shot upright, body tense in preparation for a curse or a punch to the face. Her eyes darted around the cramped, shadowy confines of the wagon and her breathing became ragged as her pulse pounded in her ears.

But there was no one there. She was completely alone. Instead, only the distant war drums of a soon-to-be-monumental headache greeted her return to consciousness. She leaned forward, her hands reaching for something to hold on to as a wave of nausea swept over her and her ears began to ring. She had just enough time to think, _Damnit... sat up too fast..._ Before the world resumed its merry dance and she slumped sideways against a packing crate as the darkness took her once more.

* * *

"Well, that's the last of them," Link said, mopping his brow of sweat.

He surveyed his work with satisfaction. After deciding earlier that five corpses laid out in the middle of the road was the sort of thing that would attract unwanted and unnecessary attention, Link had set about the laborious task of finding a decent hiding place and dragging the bandits (sometimes consisting of several pieces) a hundred yards away from the road. It had taken him nearly two candlemarks, but since Malon hadn't shown any signs of awakening he considered it time well spent. Sure, he was sweating and exhausted, but it sure beat the alternative if a band of the town militia happened by.

He kicked a pebble into the gulch. "I'll say one good thing for monsters; the Master Sword makes cleanup a whole lot easier when it just banishes them back to the Dark Realm."

"You sure you shouldn't move them back farther?" Navi asked.

Link shrugged, but said nothing, too fatigued to argue. If the fairy wanted the bodies moved any farther, he thought, she was more than welcome to move them herself.

Since he had no digging tools to speak of, he had laid them out in a shallow gully in the hopes that a few good monsoons would eventually deposit enough silt to cover the bodies. That is, assuming the local fauna didn't make off with everything worth eating first. The local wolfos weren't known for their picky palates. At Navi's gentle prodding he had left an old rotten log as their tombstone. Good riddance.

Satisfied that the bandits were finally disposed of, he turned with a final brush of his hands and began the short trek back to Malon's wagon, Navi following dutifully in his wake. They walked in silence for several moments, with Link working out the last few details of his plan before he spoke. "I need you to do me a favor."

Navi flashed brightly. "What's up, partner?"

"I need you to scout high, and come down to warn me only if you see anything suspicious on the way back," Link said.

"Back? Back where?"

Link scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking that I'll probably have to drive Malon's wagon back to the ranch since she hasn't woken up yet. I don't want to just leave her out here for the wolfos to find. Just... stay out of sight for now."

"You want me hidden for some reason?" Navi asked.

Link mulled that over for a moment. "You remember what happened with Anju? I want you out of sight just in case Malon wakes up and pulls something similar."

Navi tinkled with a fairy shudder. "Please, don't say another word about that horrible woman. Her screeching was loud enough to wake the dead. I mean, _honestly_. How could anyone confuse me with a Blue Bubble? I look nothing like a flying, flaming skull."

Link couldn't hold back a chuckle. "And then she brought out the flyswatter. Good times."

Navi huffed in exasperation. "Well sure, you _would_ find that amusing, but do you realize how _massive_ that thing was to someone like me? You've fought fire breathing dragons and you've never faced something this scary. We're talking about a titan swinging a steel grate the size of a small wagon here..."

* * *

Malon awoke again with a quiet moan, which quickly turned into a whimper as the light dug needles into her pulsing, watery vision. As her eyes focused she found that she still sat within the shadowy confines of the wagon, her head resting on the packing crate that she had slumped against before passing out again. Judging from the long shadows and the waning light it had been some time since she had first awoken. The last thing that she remembered, aside from the precious minute of consciousness earlier, was being dragged from the ground after she fell from Epona and hauled to her feet, a dozen groping hands moving across her body, and then... nothing. She must have fainted, though it was nothing like the few times that she had fainted from heat exhaustion back at the ranch. This time she had fainted from pain and fear.

Stupid. Weak. As long as she had remained conscious she had stood a fighting chance, but to faint like some pampered noble at the sight of a mouse? Stupid stupid _stupid_.

Slowly, finally, confusion took hold as her brain brought itself back up to speed. After what the bandits had gone through to subdue her, she held no illusions as to what would be her inevitable fate. A quick death, if she were lucky. If not...

She halted that train of thought, not overly eager for her mind to continue down that dark path. And yet, they had obviously not had their way with her. She had spoken with women at the markets who had lived through bandit raids, and it was obvious that something had caused the thieves to suddenly call off the assault. She didn't believe for a second that a sudden change of conscience had struck all of them at once, but aside from the deep bruises and the migraine, she seemed to be utterly untouched, for which she sent a silent thanks to the Goddesses.

She slowly scanned the wagon, giving her body time to recuperate. Several boxes had been shifted, and one had its top pried open, but very little had actually been moved. Very strange.

_Come to think of it…_ She thought as she inspected the rope burns on her wrists and ankles, surprised to find that she was no longer tied up. She distinctly remembered them bringing out the rope, but it no longer bound her. It was as if the bandits had left her in the back of the wagon, cut her bonds, and just… vanished.

She was about to crawl forward to inspect the rest of the cargo when the wagon swayed gently, and a sudden dimming of the light alerted her to the presence of someone climbing into the wagon. Her pulse quickened as panic shot through her. _They're back, they've come back to finish the job, sweet Nayru, please, no more..._

A lean form had climbed into the wagon, shadows shifting across the contours of a clearly male shape as it eclipsed the sunlight filtering in from the back. Though it was hard to tell from his silhouette, he didn't look like any of the bandits that she had seen before, but that didn't put her at ease. If anything it made her heart-rate increase.

Malon felt a scream die in her throat. She knew that she was in no condition to flee or fight back. If this new stranger meant her any harm, then she could already tell that it was too late for her. Better to go along with it, to beg leniency and pray that he was quick and merciful.

They both froze as their eyes met, mirror images of surprise and trepidation on both of their faces. The stranger swept a few stray locks of straw coloured hair from his cobalt blue eyes as he caught sight of her, his lips parting in a soft smile. "Hello there."

Years of proper upbringing demanded that she greet him in return, but all Malon managed was a panicked squeak.

The newcomer didn't seem to notice her anxiety and continued, "Glad to see that you're finally awake. I was starting to worry for a moment there." He crawled forward, causing Malon to shrink backwards against the crates.

He paused and held his gloved hands out in a placating gesture as he stopped and crouched low, and Malon was uncomfortably reminded of how her father had once shown her how to tame an unruly horse, all kind words and sweetness before they threw on the bridle. "Hey, hey, easy. I'm not going to hurt you." He moved closer, slowly this time, and filtered sunlight lit his features.

Even through the panic in her heart she noticed that this newcomer was attractive by anyone's standards. Strawberry-blond hair framing a handsome face. Strong jawline and nice full lips. Lightly tanned and obviously fit, with an easy grace in the cramped confines of the wagon that spoke of either a rural living or possibly military training. Young though, probably not much older than her, she guessed.

Malon swallowed, realizing with a start that her face had flushed. Whoever this newcomer was, he was certainly… striking.

When she didn't make any more sudden moves, the newcomer edged forward, peeling off his gloves while he eased into a crouched position in front of her and retrieved the discarded piece of cloth. "Probably gonna get a nice scar here," He said, dabbing lightly at the wound at her hairline. She fidgeted as he wiped the blood from her temple, her eyes watching his every move with the attentiveness of a cornered wolfos. She jerked away from his touch when she felt a particularly nasty sting.

"Sit still," He scolded softly, shifting back on his haunches. "You don't want to be moving around too much until you're sure you're alright."

Her curiosity finally overwhelmed her defensiveness. "Who are you? What happened to the men who attacked me?"

His eyes locked on hers, and she felt her heart race. Such pretty eyes, a soft shade of blue-grey like the sky before a rainstorm. He seemed to be thinking carefully, because it took him a moment to answer before he turned back to his ministrations. "How much do you remember?" He asked, and she noted that he had deflected her questions.

She shook her head gently, the warm flutter in her stomach quickly turning to nausea. It hurt to think, to breathe. "I was traveling from Lon Lon Ranch, heading to New Ordon. I stopped by the river to give Epona a drink when I was attacked..."

The stranger nodded in understanding, a contemplative look on his face. "It was a good trap. Waiting where the river came closest to the road on a sweltering day like this. It was only a matter of time before someone came along and stopped," He gestured to her waist. "May I?"

It took her a moment to grasp what he meant, but she realized that anyone that would bother asking could probably be trusted, and nodded her assent. She held her breath as he prodded and poked along her ribs through her blouse, his fingers working skillfully over the bruised flesh. She relaxed slightly as he went about his work with clinical detachment and not an ounce of suggestive intent, but winced several times as his probing fingers found the spots where she had been kicked or punched. He paused only when she jumped at a prod to her lower left abdomen.

"Tender?"

"Ticklish."

He favored her with an amused smile as he completed his inspection. "No broken ribs, at least. Bruised, definitely. Might be a couple cracked if you weren't lucky, but that's a lot easier to fix. You'll want to bandage it up for a few days to let the bone knit back together. No fear of a punctured lung either, which is always a plus." He sat back again, watching her. "Try to take a deep breath."

She breathed in a tentative breath, held it, then inhaled some more until the painful tightness in her chest threatened to become overwhelming. He nodded in satisfaction as she exhaled. The ache was already starting to fade slightly, and her breath came easier. "What, are you... a doctor or something?"

He waved the question away. "Nah, but I did meet a Shiekah once that gave me a crash course in basic survival medicine. I know enough to keep myself or someone else alive long enough to get some proper care. Really comes in handy when I'm traveling alone."

_He's met a Shiekah. Riiight…_ She though, shifting self-consciously as he continued to inspect the wounds on her scalp. The strange thing was, even though she wasn't sure that she believed him, he didn't seem to recognize how unlikely an occurrence it would be to meet a member of an extinct race. Either he was a very poor liar, or…

She jerked her head away when his probing fingers found the swelling goose egg forming on the back of her skull. She made to scurry sideways but halted when he brought his hands back up in a placating gesture.

"Calm down, Malon. Let me at least make sure that you're not going to do any more damage by moving around."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she skewered him with a speculative glare. "How do you know my name?"

His smile froze on his face, and he seemed to think over his answer carefully before speaking. "Young, attractive red-headed woman, alone, driving a wagon with a prime specimen of a horse." He shrugged. "People talk about you. I've heard good things."

Her eyes flicked to the sword and shield on his back. "You must get around a lot."

He hummed in agreement, giving her a secretive smile. "You could say that I've done a fair bit of traveling in my time." He gestured to her hairline. "May I continue?"

She eyed him warily for a moment before nodding, allowing him to move closer and resume his inspection. "So," She said, mustering her courage. "Does the wanderer have a name?"

He paused for a moment, again seeming to think the answer over for a quick beat before he answered. "Link."

"Link?" She asked. She felt a faint tickle of recognition, like the half remembered scent of a favored aunt's cooking, but the thought was quickly banished when he prodded at the tender spot above her hairline where the rock had connected with her skull.

"Yeah… fairly common name where I grew up," Link said.

Malon was about to ask where that might be, but was distracted when he placed his fingers on her cheeks and temples and pulled gently to inspect her eyes. Such gentle hands...

Link pursed his lips and frowned. "Hmm, your right pupil is slightly dilated. Probably means you have a mild concussion, which I guess shouldn't surprise me."

Her hand shot up of its own accord to gently probe her eye, as if she could actually feel the affected area. Now that he mentioned it, the light did seem to be a tad harsher on that side.

"Hmm. This bruise here looks older than the rest," He said, gesturing to her left eye where another bruise had left her with half of a raccoon's mask. He blinked in surprise when her demeanor suddenly turned downcast and withdrawn.

"N-no, I got that today." She said, facing away so that the bruise was hidden beneath her hair.

Link frowned. The bruise in question had turned a sickly greenish-yellow around the edges, meaning that it was older than the rest, but she was oddly defensive about it. Against his better judgment, he let the matter drop.

"Well, overall you're not in bad shape for surviving a bandit raid. How do you feel?"

"Like I've got a Goron dancing in my skull." She leaned forward, but even that simple act sent the world spinning in directions that her stomach didn't like. Her hands shot to her forehead in an effort to contain the pounding. "Strike that, make it an entire tribe of Gorons."

Link winced. "I've _seen_ an entire tribe of Gorons burst into dance. I know your pain," He said, giving her a chance to regain her equilibrium as he inspected the sacks and boxes lining the sides of the wagon. "So you said you were heading to New Ordon to deliver supplies when you were attacked?" He glanced over her shoulder, peering at the shadowed crates at the back of the wagon. "Anything back there that would particularly interest a group of thieves?"

Suspicion drenched her earlier warm feelings like a bucket of lake water. "Why are you so curious?"

His answer was distracted as he inspected the cargo. "Just piecing together the puzzle, as they say. Trying to determine if they were targeting you specifically or if you were just that unlucky." He turned and caught her glaring at him, and frowned as he realized the meaning behind her question. "I'm not sizing you up to see if there's anything worth stealing. If I was just another marauder I could have simply slit your throat while you were unconscious and dumped you in the river."

Malon felt her cheeks warm and she lowered her eyes, embarrassed. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... been one of those days."

He offered a soft smile. "No worries, I'd probably be asking the same questions if I were in your position," He glanced back, then forward. "It doesn't look like they had a chance to cart anything off before I arrived."

Malon let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Nayru. Ingo would flay me alive if anything had been stolen."

Link's ears perked. That name certainly rang several bells. When she was younger she had never really cared what Ingo thought as long as her father was happy. What had changed?

"Ingo?" He asked cautiously.

Malon nodded gently. "Ingo... runs the ranch while I'm out making deliveries. He and I don't get a long very well, but we've only got each other to keep the ranch afloat, so we make the most of it."

Link's eyebrow rose in a questioning look. "What kind of ranch only has two employees?"

Malon froze, and Link realized he had discovered a sore point. "We get by. Barely. That's all that matters," She said icily, and began to edge forward towards the front of the wagon.

Link turned, following her slow progress with concern. "Where do you think you're you going?"

"I still have to deliver these supplies to New Ordon," Malon answered.

Link frowned. "You were just attacked and you have a concussion. The last thing that you need to be doing is pushing yourself right now."

"I'll be fine as long as I take it slow." She crawled her way towards the bench, determination set in every supple curve of her body. She groaned slightly as another wave of dizziness struck her. "Very, very slow..."

He shook his head, frustrated. "It's a couple candlemarks before nightfall, and New Ordon closes its gates at dusk. You'd never get your errands done on time. If you continue on, you'd end up having to spend the night at the village."

"Beats the alternative. I can't return to the ranch without delivering these supplies."

"Why not?"

Malon turned her head and favored him with a cheerless smile. "Well get a load of you. First my doctor, now my prosecutor?" She asked with a smirk. Link didn't reply, merely content to gaze at her until she started to fidget. Exasperation began to edge into her voice. "Because the villagers need these supplies, and I need to pick up our monthly feed shipment, alright? No delivery, no money, no food, and we all die of starvation."

"Why can't you just make the trip again tomorrow? The markets will still be open then," He paused and blinked innocently as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. "Well, unless the world ends tonight, but it wouldn't really matter then, would it?"

"I just... can't..." She finished lamely.

He gave her a shrewd look. "Ingo."

Not a question.

"Yes," She said with a defeated sigh. "If I go back and he sees that I didn't make it to the market, he'll think I just fell asleep somewhere. The last thing I need is for him to think that I was being lazy. He'd… he'd never let me out of his sight again," She finished evasively. Not the whole truth, but she felt no need to give voice to the rest of her fears of what that man was capable of.

Link was quiet for several moments before relenting. "Fine," He said, relenting as he grabbed his gloves and followed her to the front of the wagon. "But take it a bit easier for the next couple of days at least. Your body needs time to heal, and it can't do that if you're constantly pushing yourself."

Malon nodded but said nothing. Easier to break a promise if one is never made, right? She sat on the edge of the bench and noticed that the step on the left side had been broken and was hanging by one useless rail. Probably jumped on and snapped in half by one of the bandits. Bastards.

She held up a hand. "Help me down."

He offered her his hand, and as she grasped it for support he noted with interest that she had a very solid grip. Epona trotted over as she stepped gingerly from the wagon, sensing her master's intentions, and within minutes she had the horse hitched once more. When she turned back towards the wagon, she noticed that Link had settled himself into the passenger's seat and looked as if he had no intention of moving.

She cocked an eyebrow, amused. "Need a ride, I take it?"

"Wouldn't mind," He said simply.

Malon shrugged and climbed into the driver's seat, replacing the sunhat on her head before taking the reins into her hands. With a quick flick of the wrists, they set off.

After several minutes of studiously ignoring him she turned and glared at her companion. She had tried to dismiss it, assuming he would soon grow bored, but he hadn't taken his eyes off of her since they had set out.

"What?" She asked, inwardly wincing at the harshness of the question.

"You've been squinting slightly against the light since you stepped out into the sun," He said gently. "You should probably lie down in the back and get some rest. I can get us the rest of the way to New Ordon."

Malon shook her head, irritated that he could pick out her weaknesses so easily. "Not a chance. I appreciate the rescue and all, I really do, but this is my wagon, and with my luck today you'd probably drive it into a lake."

He gave her an appraising look, then shrugged. "Yes, ma'am," He said with a grin, drawing his forest-green cap down over his eyes as he leaned back into a more comfortable position.

Malon gently shook her head once more in exasperation. She had been assaulted, rescued, delayed for several candlemarks, and gained a handsome, smart-mouthed hitchhiker. She sent a silent prayer to whichever deity might be listening that the rest of the day wouldn't turn out to be as full of surprises.

With a final self-reassuring huff, she flicked the reins to encourage Epona to move a bit faster, eager to get this day over with. New Ordon's militia wasn't known for being overly kind to latecomers, and if there was any hope of reaching the village gates by nightfall they would have to hurry.

* * *

Malon doesn't recognize Link and he doesn't know what to make of it. What would you do in his situation?  
Full chapter notes are in my profile. Please read and review!

Ciao!  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	5. Chapter 4: Memories

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

Small chapter this time. I had a spare dream sequence that I had written but cut and was lying around unused, but I found a way to squeeze it back in.

* * *

Chapter 4: Memories

* * *

The blazing sun crawled along its inexorable path across the autumn sky as they made their way towards New Ordon. Epona was making good time, newly refreshed as she was by the layover by the river, but it would still be several candelmarks before they arrived at the gates of the village.

The wind had picked up from the south, if only slightly, blessing them with a cooling breeze that cut through the horrid mugginess of the morning. Clouds had begun to form, as wispy as tufts of carnival faerie floss as they drifted across the land, casting fleeting islands of shadow upon the great grassy sea. To Link's experienced eyes it looked as if a front was coming, promising rain and perhaps a welcome drop in temperature in the next several days. For now though they simply bore the heat as best as they could.

Malon had remained largely silent as they traveled, humming a quiet song to herself that had an added effect of discouraging conversation. No more bandits had attempted to assault them, and indeed, they had not seen a single person in the candlemarks since they had set out. With nothing to keep himself occupied as they traversed the plains, Link found his mind wandering to memories of Malon and the Ranch, back before Ganondorf's rise to power. Between the oppressive heat and the rhythmic rocking motion of the wagon, it wasn't long before he found himself nodding off.

_He dreamed..._

* * *

The clouds roiled in the darkened sky, and the wind blew cool and damp with the promise of rain soon to come. The massive hollow log that served as the border between the Kokiri Forest and Hyrule Field had disappeared over the horizon several candelmarks ago, leaving them in a vast, unending expanse of rolling hills covered in supple grass the likes of which Link had never seen.

"Come on, Link, we're not going to make it to shelter unless you can pick up the pace!" Navi yelled over the gusting wind.

Link, ten years old and fresh with excitement over his recent adventure inside of the Great Deku Tree, slid to a halt and grabbed his wobbling knees, his lungs heaving for much needed oxygen. He had been running for what felt like days and he still couldn't see anything that even remotely resembled a castle. "I never—" He paused, gasping for another breath of air. "I never thought that… that Hyrule Field… was so… big!" He said between intakes of breath.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Navi chided. "Besides, the breeze is nice and cool. Imagine what this would feel like on a summer day?"

Link stood straight on shaky legs, observing the savage black thunderheads roiling above him. _The Goddesses are angry._ He thought sadly._ Could it somehow be connected to the Great Deku Tree's death?_

Taking a few moments to regain his composure, his spared a sideways glance at his faerie partner. "It may be easy for you; you don't have to run the whole way."

Navi sniffed in mock disdain. "Well, whatever, we just need to get to the castle before this storm hits us," The faerie said, and flew to her usual orbit around Link's head as she surveyed the field. "Now… which way was the castle again?"

Link sighed. "Face it, Navi. We're lost," He said, desperately searching the horizon for any sign of civilization, "This field is too big. Even if we travel the whole night, I doubt we'd get to the castle by daybreak." He closed his eyes as he remembered what he had been told. "The owl said to head north to find the castle, and that I would meet a princess there, but with this rainstorm coming I can't even tell which way the sun is moving."

"Don't worry so much, I have a good head for directions. I'll keep you on the right path," Navi said. "Although... it is a shame you sold that compass that you found."

Link barked a bitter laugh. "What we need right about now is a miracle."

Navi's glow brightened. "Hey, look at the bright side! At least it isn't raining—"

If there was a Fate, and if one happened to believe in such things, then she was a very cruel and unforgiving mistress indeed, for it was at that exact moment that the heavens decided to split into a torrential cloudburst. The leading edge of the storm raced across the field and was upon them in moments, shocking them both with the sudden icy torrent that the front brought.

"…yet." Navi finished somewhat somberly as she darted under Link's hat, where it was safer. For Link, the raindrops would be a mere inconvenience. While annoying, it was hardly dangerous when he got hit. But to Navi, even a glancing strike could be deadly, knocking the hapless faerie to the ground where she could easily be pummeled with successive drops.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" Link heard from under his cap. With a small shiver, Link set off for the nearest hill, his clothes already thoroughly soaked. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Several candelmarks later and the downpour still showed no signs of letting up. It had grown much darker and the temperature continued to drop as the day wore on. Navi had informed him sullenly that the sun had probably already set. The rain poured relentlessly onto Hyrule Field, slicking the grass and causing bared patches of dirt to turn into thick mud. While living in Kokiri Forest, Link had been caught outside during many rainstorms, but they had always been sheltered by the many great trees surrounding them, and had little to fear from the wind and falling rain. In fact, a good rainstorm had always seemed like something to celebrate, either to go outside and dance or burrow into a warm blanket with a steaming cup of tea.

This storm was something entirely different. It seemed to Link as if an entire lake must have evaporated and condensed again directly overhead. Worse still, his breathing was becoming more labored, and he had developed a cough, probably the beginning of a cold. The rain was lighter now than when it had first started, but now at times it seemed as if it were being blown directly at him instead of falling straight down like he was used to. Fighting his way against the freezing, buffeting winds, he ascended the last rise of a particularly large hill, only to feel his heart fall at the sight of the seemingly endless plain before him.

He shivered again, violently this time, and found that he couldn't stop. _I can't keep this up for much longer, _He thought to himself, an animal growl of frustration passing his lips. He fell to his knees as his spirit shattered, and gazed at the open expanse before him. "T—that's it, Navi…" He suddenly doubled over, grabbing his stomach as a coughing fit wracking his small frame. When it was over, he just laid there with his burning forehead in the cool mud, not even bothering to wipe the newly formed tears from his eyes. "I just… can't do it. What a glorious h—hero I turned out to be, huh? D—done in by a little rain." He shivered, tears and rain staining his mud laced cheeks. "Goddesses, I'm pathetic."

"Don't say that, Link!" Navi yelled, trying to make herself heard over the pounding rain. "What would Saria think if she saw you now? Do you know what she would say?"

"She'd say that she hated me," He sobbed, picking himself up from the mud in a crouched position. "I can't even cross a s—stupid field by myself. Mido was right, I'll never be strong enough."

"Argh!" Against her better judgment, the little faerie shot out from underneath his hat and into the slight cover provided by his bowed head. "_Damnit_ Link, she wouldn't hate you. She loves you!"

Link stared down in shock at his guardian faerie. He had never heard of any fairies cursing at their partners, no matter how badly they deserved to be scolded.

"All of the Kokiri love you," She continued. "Even that bumbling oaf Mido. And there is nothing that will ever change that. But if you give up now, you'll disappoint them. All of them. And you'll disappoint her." Her words softened as she looked straight into his eyes, noticing the unshed tears still collected there. "You don't want to fail them just as you are setting out, do you? You can do this; you just have to believe in yourself."

Link sniffed, rubbing the arm of his rain soaked tunic across his face. "No. No, you're right. I've got to keep going… I've got to be strong..." He paused, his eyes seemingly fixated on Navi. After a few moments of dead silence, it began to rattle her. "W—what?" She asked nervously. "What is it? Is there something stuck in my teeth?"

Link closed his eyes and shook his head. When he reopened them, he had to blink a few times before he came to the conclusion that he wasn't going crazy.

"Navi… There's light."

"Huh?" The faerie turned around and dodged a few errant raindrops, then fled back to the safety of Link's hat. "What do you mean, light?" She asked, poking her head out from under the cap.

"There." He said simply, pointing in the direction that he was staring.

Navi followed the length of his arm with her eyes and looked beyond. There, off in the distance, was a tiny flickering speck of light. If she hadn't been looking for it, she might have dismissed it as a star in the night sky, but since the sky was overcast and no stars were showing…

Navi smiled. "Oh, Link… There's light! And where there's light, there's people! We can rest there for the night!" She smiled and patted him on the head. "Let's go!"

With a grunt of renewed determination, Link hoisted himself up. He wobbled a little on unsteady legs before taking off down the hill at a run.

"Wait, Link, slow down, you're not feeling we—eaaAA_AAAHHH!_" Navi screamed as Link slipped on a particularly slick patch of grass, sending him skidding down the steep hill on his rear. He barely missed a beat when he hit the bottom, as he was up and running again in an instant, shivering against the cold.

"C'mon, partner, let's get you into a warm bed!" Navi chirped, invigorated by Link's renewed spirit.

He ran for what felt like an eternity. He couldn't remember how long it had taken him to arrive at the towering walls, the light from a solitary window his only guide, but he eventually arrived at the mighty iron gates of what could only be a castle. He gazed up at the towering fortress for a moment, gasping as he reveled in the fact that he had finally made it to his destination.

Lightning jagged, a flashing pitchfork of brilliant white through the heavy sky, illuminating the high, foreboding ramparts. Link leaned against the heavy iron gate, his breath coming ragged and uneven, half dead with exhaustion. Navi had had to shout encouragement at him in order to push him the last kilometer, but he was here. He was finally here.

"C'mon, buddy, we're almost there, don't give up on me now." Navi said soothingly to her partner. Through the unique bond that all faeries shared with their partners, Navi could sense that Link couldn't take much more abuse. If only he could hold out a little while longer, they would be safely inside.

Nodding mutely, Link scrambled through the gate, muttering an awkward curse when he clocked his head on one of the thick iron bars. His thoughts seemed as thick and clouded as honey left out for too long, and he was having a hard time telling if things were actually where he saw them. Everything seemed to be floating in front of his eyes, as if the rain had become so thick that everything was swimming around him.

Inside the compound, he blindly trudged up the path and towards the only building with lit windows. His arms felt like someone had tied bricks to them, and it took an effort of will to raise one and weakly knock on the door.

"Oooh, no one's going to hear you over this gale," Navi said before zooming out of his hat and up to the warm glow of a window. Inside she thought she could make out two distinct forms sitting in front of a roaring fire, but it was hard to tell because the pane of glass was warped and pitted with age.

"Link, I think I can see someone in there. You're going to have to knock louder, or they won't hear you." She turned to her partner. It took her a moment to realize that he wasn't standing in the same spot anymore. In fact, he wasn't even _standing_.

"Link!" Navi gasped, zipping back down to her partner's side. Link had collapsed face down in the mud, his once green Kokiri tunic stained a muddy brown. Navi flitted in panicked circles around his head. "Oh no, don't lie down when you're so close!"

But the ground felt too comfortable, especially after all of that running. Navi was being silly. The cool mud felt good against his hot skin. Why shouldn't he lay down for a few moments and catch his breath?

"Link, don't go to sleep!" Navi cried, landing on his forehead. She leapt up again almost immediately, his feverish skin nearly burning her delicate feat. "Oh no oh no _ohno-ohno-ohno_ … This is not good. Link, please wake up!"

Even when a crack of light fell over him and the warmth wrapped around him like a fuzzy blanket, he felt no need to wake up, even for Navi's frantic cries…

* * *

"_... __wake up,_" The voice said, and he felt a gentle prod to his side.

"Hmm?" Link said as the fuzzy remnants of his dream evaporated like water on stone.

Malon nudged him again. "I said, wake up, we're almost there."

Link nodded in acknowledgment and sat up straighter. He noted that the sun had dipped low in the sky while he was napping, and it would soon set behind the distant foreboding form of Death Mountain.

He softly worked the kinks out of his neck, allowing him to surreptitiously watch Malon from the corner of his eye. Seven years ago he had been taken in by Talon and his daughter when he was ill and exhausted. It had turned out that the "castle" that he had stumbled upon was really an old Hylian fort in the middle of Hyrule Field that had been converted into a horse ranch. It was due to their charity alone that his quest hadn't met an abrupt end before it had even begun. He owed them more than he could ever hope to repay, and he was ashamed that he had never been able to return once his quest for the Spiritual Stones was complete. It hurt that she didn't seem to recognize him after all this time, but then again, it was probably for the best. He had made her a promise to return, all those years ago, and he had failed to live up to it.

Until now.

He wondered how Talon and the ranch had fared in the last seven years, but could think of no way to broach the subject that wouldn't immediately set her on the defensive. Best to just wait and see if he could exploit an opening in a conversation, just as he had when he asked about Ingo earlier.

Saria might have been his first friend, but she had always been the leader of the Kokiri first and foremost, settling disputes and keeping order amongst the forest children. She had been more of a mother figure than anything else. The rest of the Kokiri had accepted him, but had generally kept their distance.

But Malon... Malon was something special. She had been his first equal, the first person to truly accept him for who and what he was, the first person with which he could just relax and have fun. With Saria he had always been on edge, because there was always something else that would inevitably come along and demand her attention.

With Malon it had been different. In the weeks that he had spent at the ranch in between searching for the Spiritual Stones, he had learned so much from his newfound friend. She taught him how to ride, how to laugh at himself and how to care for others through her love of animals.

With the last rays of sunlight warming their backs, the familiar walls of New Ordon came into view in the far distance. Link smiled at the sight. They had made it the rest of the way without incident, but he couldn't wait to be behind those fortifications. New Ordon might have been a backwoods farming village, but it had survived the recent spread of bandits and monster attacks by being orderly and well disciplined. Short of a full-blown monster incursion, they would be safe once inside the village proper. Though she didn't say anything, Link knew from the slight relaxation of her shoulders that Malon was feeling the same.

He promised himself that, this time, things would be different.

* * *

I've been a moderator of the Malink Addiction C2 since it was founded, but I've only added 13 stories that I felt did the couple justice. (Plus this one just recently.) Unfortunately I don't have time anymore to wade through the 400+ stories with Malon in them to sift the gems from the rubble. Have you read any Malon-centric fiction here that isn't on the list that you think really deserves it? Let me know in a review!

Ciao!  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	6. Chapter 5: Errands

The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling

**Author's Notes:**

Slower chapter this time, though a bit longer to make up for the last one. Character development, ho!

* * *

Chapter 5: Errands

* * *

The Goddesses were not in a generous mood, it would seem.

It had taken longer than expected to reach New Ordon. With the village walls in view, the broken metal step on the wagon caught on a boulder protruding from the grassy shoulder and was jammed into the ground. It had cost them nearly half a candlemark to try to fix before they both grew frustrated and, with Malon's blessing, Link snapped it off with a few well-placed kicks. Twilight had come all too soon, and with it the final mournful bugle call that signaled the closing of the town gates.

Now that they had finally arrived, they both sat in the wagon and stared up at the unwelcoming gates of New Ordon. Malon shook her head in frustration. "Just… friggin'… _great._"

Link frowned, his eyes sweeping from side to side as he regarded the empty palisades thoughtfully. "You'd think that they'd have a few guards posted to warn the gatekeeper not to close it on approaching wagons," He mused, then turned and looked at her. "Well, we could always camp out and wait for morning."

Malon scowled and looked back in the direction that they had come. Travelers who were not swift enough often found that drawing the creatures that stalked the fields at night towards a town was not the best way to make friends. Overzealous guards usually drove them away, often with something long-ranged and flaming, so it was common practice if one were to arrive at a town at night to bivouac just out of arrow shot, but still close enough to the gates that a sympathetic guard might aim for the creatures instead of a fleeing traveler. Sometimes though it was just easier to aim for the travelers and let the beasties eat their fill. At least then they wouldn't be hungry enough to attempt an attack on the settlement.

Malon shook her head sadly. Such was the world they now lived in.

They had passed one such camp a few minutes ago, but it had long since been deserted, the ashes of a abandoned camp fire cool and compacted with the last rain, which marked it at least a week old. There would likely be no one else along tonight, and Malon knew that they would have to fend for themselves. She was secretly glad to have someone along to protect her in case of another bandit attack, but there was no way they would be able to spend the entire night keeping watch and expect to be able to work through the full day tomorrow. Besides, time was a critical factor, and not just because she was carrying perishable cargo. She needed to deliver her provisions in time for tomorrow morning's market rush if she was expecting to be paid the full amount on her various contracts. To add to her problems, her professional pride was also at stake.

"The hell with that," She said gruffly, and jumped from the wagon, wincing as she landed. She took two steps, then stopped and reached for Epona's harness to steady herself as the world spun and darkened, only remaining standing through sheer force of will. As soon as the pounding in her head dwindled to manageable levels she straightened her back, took a deep steadying breath, and strode forward.

Link glanced at her curiously. "What're you gonna do now?" He asked.

"The only thing I _can_ do," She answered, and slammed her open palm repeatedly against the heavy wooden gate. "Hey! Open up in there!"

A pregnant silence fell for several moments as both young Hylians perked their ears for any sign of a response, but the only sounds to be heard were Epona's gentle breathing and the mournful hum of cicadas echoing through the twilight.

"I don't think there's anyone nearby that can hear you," Link said, jumping down from the wagon to join her by the gate.

Malon felt the burn of her irritation pulse in time with her migraine as she turned to face him. "Well then, smart-ass, are you gonna stand around all night or are you gonna help me get inside?" She snapped impatiently.

He favored her with a cheerless smile. "Would you like me to scream at the gate ineffectually as well?"

Malon blew a raspberry and turned back to ponder the door, frustrated with herself for taking her anger out on Link. It took some doing, but after a moment she could feel the burning fire of her anger waning. She wasn't sure she could trust this enigmatic traveler, but his actions thus far had been above reproach, and so at the very least he deserved a little respect. "Can you..._ please..._ help me find a way to get inside so we're not eaten alive tonight?"

Link bowed his head in respectful acknowledgment and stepped back from the gate to better scrutinize the town's fortifications. New Ordon sat nestled in the forest marking the southern border of Hyrule Field, and the stone and brick walls surrounding it formed a bulge that pushed outward from the treeline before sweeping back into the forest. At first he inspected the closest trees in the hopes that he would be able to scale one and jump over the wall, but they had obviously been pruned in such a way as to discourage such an act. Every likely looking branch had been stripped away, leaving dozens of unusual half-trees lining the walls as far as he could see. He assumed that the rest of the trees surrounding the village were similarly pruned, and it would be pointless to continue looking for one.

He continued his inspection of the wall, noting that his hookshot would be next to useless since there was virtually no wood for the barbed head to imbed itself into. He could attempt to lodge it between two stones on the upper part of the fortification, but there were no guarantees that it would support his body weight even if he were lucky enough to make such a shot.

He was stumped. The Ordonians seemed to have done their job well. There didn't appear to be any way over.

That was when he saw the first watch tower and noticed the light from a window several meters up.

A small smile crept across his face. _Well, if I can't go over..._

He turned and called softly to Malon. "Sit tight, I'll be back in a couple minutes."

He jogged down the length of the wall. The guard tower was built like the rest of the wall, unfortunately, and had no vulnerable protruding wooden components. As he approached, he saw that the window the light came from was really an arrowslit, designed so that archers inside of the towers would have as much protection as possible from attackers but would still be able to cover as large of a firing arc as possible. He knew immediately that he would be unable to squeeze through such a small opening, but that hadn't stopped him before in similar situations.

He slowed to a stealthy prowl as he approached, since the light and sounds emanating from the gap indicated that there were in fact some guards on duty. He snuck past it quietly, knowing that if he approached there was an even chance that the guards would shoot first rather than assist him by opening the gate. The bottom-most arrowslit was just low enough that he could barely see the room's ceiling illuminated by torchlight, and shadows occasionally flickered across it as the people inside moved about. This one was a bust, then.

He continued on. After a few minutes of searching, he found what he was looking for; another guard tower, this one with a darkened arrowslit.

_This should do nicely,_ He thought, reaching his sword hand across to brush against the top of his right gauntlet.

Two cloudy orbs set into the back of his gauntlet began to glow with an effervescent fire as Link began to draw upon his magic, casting red and green shadows about in the twilight. His fingers brushed against the brighter of the two orbs; a small emerald crystal that coolly pulsed with suppressed power. He concentrated on the feel of the crystal in his mind, and the soft green glow brightened for an instant as he channeled the magic at the core of his being down his arm and through the gem. The familiar weightless sensation of spinning and falling through a trap door enveloped him as his body dissolved into faerie lights, allowing the glowing spheres of pure magical energy to slip through the view-port and coalesce on the far side.

His Ocarina was able to mimic the same effect as the crystal, but those songs were only attuned to distant, specific predetermined locations. The beauty of Farore's Wind was that it allowed him to travel anywhere he could directly see, with the only downsides being that it had a relatively short range of several meters and was slow to use, leaving him open for attack were he to try it in battle. For this though, it served his purposes perfectly.

The ethereal orbs of light reformed in mid-air, causing him to fall gently to the floor as gravity resumed its control over his body. As soon as the spell was complete, he shook his hand to rid himself of the last of the lingering tingle of magic and strode forward.

He had barely taken a step when a low buzzing sound caused him to pause and crouch as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The sound stopped, but repeated itself after several seconds before falling silent once more. He waited, tense, his ears perked and alert, but the position of the sound didn't seem to be moving, only constantly repeating. As the room came slowly into sharper focus, and the source of the sound showed no sign of approaching, he straightened and moved forward, cautiously feeling and shuffling his way around empty tables and chairs towards what appeared to be an exit in the far wall.

He froze again as movement in the soft shadows directly ahead of him caught his eye, the same direction as the buzzing. He reached his arm back slowly and plucked an arrow from his quiver, holding it high above him with his right hand so that the arrowhead was not in his direct line of sight as his left hand moved towards the grip of his sword.

"_Fuego,_" He whispered, and a burst of magic sped through the arrow and ignited the tip, giving him a makeshift torch.

The sleeping guard in the corner turned out to be the source of the buzzing as he gently snored. His well-worn armor reflected the torchlight, sending flickering shards of firelight dancing about the room. He sat in a chair propped against the wall with his legs crossed, his head back and mouth open in a boneless position that only those in a deep sleep can truly accomplish.

Link snorted in amusement and blew out the magic flame on his arrow before re-sheathing it. He allowed himself another few moments to grow accustomed to the gloom before moving again, taking great care to step over the outstretched legs of the guard.

_Thank the Goddesses for slackers,_ He thought to himself with a smile, and quietly slipped out the door into the night air of New Ordon.

* * *

Malon paced restlessly, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Every time her path took her back towards the forest, she cast an anxious look into the darkness that her new companion had disappeared into. Twilight had nearly given way to full night, and the stars overhead were starting to peak out from behind a thin veil of clouds, even as the shadows began to swell around her with tendrils of inky darkness that reached out from the treeline like barbed, jagged fingers.

She wasn't afraid of the dark, really. Only children and superstitious old biddies feared the darkness and the unknown evils that lurked therein.

At least... that's what she kept telling herself even as she found her revolving path becoming smaller and smaller and edging closer to the cart. She began to wonder if retrieving her crossbow from the wagon would alleviate some of the stress of waiting.

Sensing her master's impatience, Epona whickered softly and tossed her mane. Malon forced herself to stop and inhale deeply in an effort to calm herself and turned to give the mare a comforting pat on the flank.

"Just a little while longer, Epona, then we'll get you stabled for the night," She said, still looking into the forest for signs of anyone – or _thing_ – approaching. Still, even with her fervent wishing, Link did not materialize out of the gloom.

Where was he?

The sounds of creaking wood and well-oiled hinges caused her to spin. The left door of the gate had slid free from its lock, and before long it stood fully open thanks to a familiar green-garbed figure.

Malon rushed forward and took hold of Epona's bridle as soon as the gate was open and began to lead her into the village.

"What took you so long?" She asked, using a smirk to soften the question's bite and hide her earlier anxiety.

Link shrugged diffidently. "Had to avoid the guards. Just be glad they're not as alert as the ones in King's Bay, or else we'd look like pin cushions right about now."

Malon said nothing as she drew Epona forward, eager to be about her business. As soon as the wagon was past, Link pulled the gate closed, cushioning it at the last moment so that it fell into its lock with a quiet click in an effort to avoid alerting the guards, and turned to catch up with Malon.

* * *

Link had assumed that Malon's first priority would be finding a place to rest for the night and that she would make her deliveries tomorrow morning. However, as the wagon pulled into the central square, it turned out that she had had other plans. Link caught up with her moments after a door to one of the larger houses had opened at her knock.

"Good evening, Mrs. Ballesta. I know it's getting late and I apologize," Malon said with a gracious bow, her hands clasped tightly in front of her skirt. "I was hoping to talk to your husband about the supplies I was supposed to deliver earlier today."

As Link approached, he saw that Mrs. Ballesta was a tall, heavy-set woman with a glare that could eviscerate a Goron. In fact, he wondered if she didn't have a little Goron somewhere in her family tree since she nearly took up the entire width of the doorway.

She glared at Malon, her beady coal-black eyes scrunched as she scrutinized the lovely young redhead. "You're late," She said accusingly.

Malon smiled with patient saccharine sweetness. "As I said, ma'am, I sincerely apologize. I—" She noticed Link approaching and corrected herself. "That is, _we_ were delayed by bandits earlier today on the road here, and we lost several candlemarks. We only just now arrived and I made sure that this was our very first stop."

Mrs. Ballesta glowered with her fiercest beady-eyed glare, then grunted and tossed her head towards the heart of town. "He's gone for the evening, went down to the mill. Just get our stuff and I'll get your money," She said, and without waiting for Malon's reply, turned and let the door fall closed to a crack.

Malon bowed once more as she was dismissed, then turned and began striding purposefully towards the wagon. She growled in frustration when she remembered the step on the side closest to her was broken and made to walk around the back before she nearly stumbled into Link. She paused, her business-like demeanor suddenly turning uneasy as she opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it without saying a word and looked away.

Link waited a brief moment for Malon to collect her thoughts, then tried to fill the increasingly uncomfortable silence. "Here, let me help you," He said, moving towards the back of the wagon.

She reached out towards the wooden paneling of the wagon in an effort to steady not only her physical balance, but to keep her emotional balance as well. Her hand brushed over a thin streak of red-brown that looked as if it had been splashed across the wagon. She frowned when her fingers came away dry, but rust red. _Paint?_

"I didn't ask earlier... but I'd like some answers now," She said, then turned and looked straight into his eyes. "How did you manage to get rid of the bandits?"

Link grimaced and tried to avoid her piercing blue gaze. "You... probably don't want to know."

"Try me," She said, folding her arms defiantly.

He met her challenging stare for several long seconds, then said, "When I came across your wagon, I found a group of men surrounding you. I warned them off, and they didn't listen. When I pushed the subject, they attacked me." He paused for a moment, then, "I killed them."

The simple intensity of the answer made her shiver in the cooling night air. "You just... killed them? All of them?" She asked. When he said nothing, she continued, "Do you know how strange, how implausible, that sounds? That you were able to kill... what? Six? Seven—?"

"Six," He offered.

"_Six_ men," She said incredulously. "Six _armed_ men. That you _alone_ were capable of winning against those kinds of numbers?"

He nodded, his demeanor frigid. "Weren't much of a fight, really. Not a one of them was a real soldier."

"And you are?"

"I'm... different," He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"How so?" She asked.

Link sighed. "Those men learned over the years how to fight in order to take things from other people that didn't belong to them. I've learned to fight so that I can protect those that can't protect themselves."

Malon gave a bitter laugh and she felt her cynical side bubble up in full force. "How poetic. So very noble of you. But what do _you_ get out of it?"

Link's jaw clenched in an effort to bite back a scathing retort. "The satisfaction of a job well done," He said seriously.

She blinked at him, then slowly shook her head and took a step back. "Go away. I thank you for the help, but I really can't afford to be more generous than that."

"I'm not looking for a reward; I just want to help you. Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Yes, yes it is." Malon said and locked eyes with him once more as if daring him to prove her otherwise.

Link felt a frustrated growl escape his lips. "Well believe it or not, I didn't save you earlier because I was looking for an easy payoff." He crossed his arms with a sigh and kicked at the dirt. His head hung low for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, but when he looked up determination burned in his eyes.

"Look, here's the deal. I've got nowhere to go, and since I can't seem to find the person I'm looking for, I'm stuck. Before I found you by the side of the road, I was wandering with no direction. If I were to walk out those gates now," He stabbed a finger back the way they had come, "That's what I would still be. Aimless.

"I'm offering to help you because I _want_ to help, nothing more. I'm not expecting some reward, and I'm not asking anything from you. Just... let me help you, at least until you're safely back at your ranch. Please."

Malon was quiet as he spoke, though her gaze remained locked with his. After a moment though, slowly, a cooling touch of gratitude softened her glare. "All right, then," She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, distracted with her thoughts, then nodded as she reached a private decision. "All right. Come on, you can help me move these boxes around."

Link blinked, surprised but grateful for her sudden change of heart. "We're not unloading them?" He asked as she climbed into the back of the wagon.

"Normally I would, but then normally this would be my last stop on my way out the gate. But if I want to get everything done before midnight, I need to hit all of my stops as I reach them instead of driving across town and starting my errands on the far side like I usually do."

As they settled into the cramped confines of the wagon, Malon showed him exactly which boxes needed to be moved, mostly those in the middle. Once the center was cleared, she urged him to back out and began rapping on one of the wooden floor-planks. Much to Link's surprise, after a few solid taps it popped loose. Malon set the small plank aside and dug her fingers into the crevice. She strained slightly, allowing him to see the lithe muscle in her arms that she had built up due to years of manual labor. After a moment a large piece of the paneling popped upwards, revealing a small recessed hollow built into the floor of the wagon and completely filled with covered cartons.

Link whistled appreciatively. "Clever."

She flashed him a wicked smile as she removed several long, thin cartons and placed them to the side. Pride smouldered in her eyes, concealed behind the veil of her bands. "I learned a long time ago not to put all of our eggs in one basket, so to speak. Today wasn't the first time I've been robbed, though last time they were just happy to take the crates."

Link nodded appreciatively. "You can't even tell, really, from the outside. You've disguised it quite well with the canvas sides," He said, and smiled when he saw the next item that Malon withdrew from the secret compartment. "Aaah, so this is why you didn't want to wait until tomorrow. The milk would spoil."

Malon nodded and began passing him large glass bottles full of the creamy liquid. "Not only that, but the glass alone is worth a small fortune. We nearly went bankrupt the last time we had to replace everything that was stolen. I figured it would be safer this way if I was seen only carting around manure and other cheap items."

Link began arranging the bottles to the side as they were handed to him. During a pause in which Malon pulled out another thin carton, he held a bottle up in the torchlight and studied the familiar blue and white hand-painted label of Lon Lon Ranch. The small caricature of a milk cow stared back at him dolefully through a thin sheen of condensation. "Why don't you use clay or metal urns to transport the milk like everyone else?"

Malon shot him a look that hovered between bemused and insulted. "We'll do that for large orders occasionally, but for individual families we like to put in some extra effort. Lon Lon Milk is some of the highest quality milk in all of Hyrule," She said with the familiar air of someone delivering a well-rehearsed sale's pitch. "Clay pots shatter too easily or will give the milk an earthy taste, and steel will rust. Only glass is pure enough to allow our milk to retain its cool, delicious flavor, untainted by outside contaminants."

She continued handing Link bottles until there was only one left, which she held up for his inspection. "Besides, the glass allows you to see that what you're receiving is the genuine article; pure, one hundred percent cow milk. Some farms will try to cheat and dilute their milk with water or mix in goat milk, which has a distinct yellowish color," She gave the jar a gentle shake for emphasis, sloshing the milk around the bottle until it bubbled against the cork stopper. "This right here is high-quality stuff, pure as the driven snow."

"Isn't it more expensive to do it this way though?" Link asked, still dubious. "Last time I looked glass isn't cheap."

Malon nodded, conceding his point. "It is, and our price reflects that, but we have an arrangement with all of our customers. For every bottle that they return to us, we give them a discount on their next order. Sometimes bottles end up broken or people decide to keep them for other things, but overall we get most of our bottles back.

"This lets the customer feel like they're getting a good deal," She added with a sly wink. "_Aaand_ it ropes them into buying more milk from us down the line. High quality taste for a reasonable price, as long as you keep doing business with us."

Link threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. "All right, all right. You've convinced me."

Malon grinned triumphantly and began refitting the door to the secret compartment, leaving Link to organize the milk jars. He was still smiling when an elderly man appeared around the corner of a building and approached them upon seeing the wagon.

"There yeh are, girl!" The man said in greeting as he shuffled closer. He walked with a simple hardwood cane and his back was stooped with age, but his eyes were bright and attentive beneath a bushy pair of grey eyebrows.

Link turned with interest as Malon's demeanor warmed and she gently slid from the wagon. The old man stopped a respectful distance away and, with a small flourish, bowed and removed the softcap from his salt-and-pepper hair, causing Malon's grin to widen and her cheeks to flush.

"Good evening, Mr. Ballesta. I just spoke with your wife; I have those lengths of horse hair you ordered," Malon said, giving a small bow in return.

"Good evening, good evening. I was wondering what ha' happened to yeh. Worried I wasn't goin' ta be able ta fill Jerik's order tomorrow," The man man said, replacing his cap on his head. He paused when he caught sight of the bruises framing Malon's face, and continued in a quieter voice, "Yeh look like 'ell, girl. Yeh been havin' trouble at the ranch?"

Malon's eyes widened at the old man's directness, but she plastered on as large a smile as she could muster. "N—not at all, sir. Just a minor incident on my way here. I had plenty of help sorting it out, though," She said, gesturing towards Link.

The old man studied Link for a moment with the cool assessing gaze that men use on one another to judge a potential threat before nodding his head. "Tha's good then, I s'pose," He said, then turned back to Malon. "If'n you'll just be good enough tah unload my order, I'll go an' find your money." With another respectful bow, he turned and walked into the house.

As the door swung shut, Link looked askance at Malon. "Horse hair?"

Malon turned with a nod. "Mr. Ballesta is a bowyer, and in his spare time he makes bows," She said, and hastened to explain at Link's confused frown. "Bows for string instruments, not just archery bows. Horse hair makes excellent string since it's strong but very pliant." She pointed towards a small leather satchel placed on top of one of the larger crates. "Hand me that and two bottles of milk, will you?"

He handed her the order and with a nimble flick of her skirt she turned and went to make her first delivery of the day.

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent much the same way; Malon would drive the wagon and give Link instructions while he rooted around in the back for the next stop's order. They made several deliveries in the area around the central market, mostly to private homes to deliver bottles of milk. Several bundles of cucco down were delivered to a quilter, while a separate carefully packed parcel of cucco primary feathers were delivered to a fletcher. Cucco feathers weren't the best for making arrows, but they were far more readily available than the highly demanded kargaroc feathers.

Link noticed that Malon was making more of an effort to conceal her wounds after the first stop at the Ballesta's. Though she went about her business with gusto, she kept the bruised half of her face turned away, and always made sure to hide the limp. If anyone were to question her about her injuries, she would wave it off with a laugh and quickly move on with the conversation.

As they continued their deliveries across the town, Link found that he was quickly falling into a routine. Malon would drive and instruct Link on what needed to be pulled out for the next order. He in turn would dig around in the back and stack orders in neat piles. When they stopped, he would jump down and quietly place the order by the door as Malon negotiated her fee, then return to the wagon and begin rearranging the cargo in preparation for the next stop. Soon after, Malon would return, usually carrying several empty milk bottles which she would hand to Link, and they would be off to the next delivery.

Finally, as the night wore on and their stores were gradually depleted, the end was in sight. A dozen jars of milk and several pallets of eggs were delivered to a local bakery, whose owner was kind enough to sell them a couple of leftover meat-buns for dinner at a discount. Crates full of bagged manure were unloaded and delivered to several farms on the edge of town. The last pallet of eggs – marked "fertilized" on the top – was delivered to a farmer that had apparently lost his last two egg laying hens to a marauding fox. The farmer was still shouting his gratitude to Malon as they drove away.

* * *

Link leaned casually against the wagon with his arms crossed as he watched Malon deliver the last of the milk to an elderly couple. The wagon itself was nearly empty, save for several open crates and the carefully packed milk bottles. It had taken them nearly five candlemarks to make their way across the town, but they had finally finished their deliveries for the day.

All the while he had worried about Malon's well-being. Though she put up a brave front, he could see that the work was beginning to take a real toll on her in her fragile state. She was noticeably breathing harder, even though her duties amounted to little more than driving the wagon and negotiating her fee, and her limp had become pronounced enough that she was unable to hide it any longer. The old woman had commented on Malon's bruised face, but as usual she had laughed it off with a wave of her hand and complimented the woman on her woolen shawl in an effort to divert the conversation.

"Stubborn woman," Link muttered under his breath.

A high feminine voice answered him: "She always was. The only reason you don't like it now is that it's being directed at you."

Link smiled as the familiar tinkling sound of faerie wings settled about his head. "Navi. Thanks for the lookout."

"No problem," She answered, then made a show of looking around. "Although this doesn't look like Lon Lon Ranch."

Link's smile changed to a crooked grin. "Slight change of plans. As I said before; stubborn woman."

"Still want me to stay out of sight?" She asked, pausing when she saw the distracted look in his eyes. "What's the matter?"

Only someone who had spent as much time around Link as Navi had would notice the troubled frown that flickered across his face. His cool gaze never left the redheaded young woman across the street as she chatted with the elderly couple. "She didn't recognize me," He said quietly. "Just like what happened with Saria…"

Navi said nothing. She had already tried to console him after the Forest Temple. What else could she say that wouldn't ultimately amount to useless platitudes?

Link sighed and shook himself free of his dispirited thoughts. "Stay out of sight for now. I've managed to convince her to take me back with her when she leaves. I want to find out what's happened at the ranch."

"And after that?"

He thought for a moment. "After that... we'll see what we see. Find a place to keep warm for tonight. Tomorrow morning I'd like you to keep an eye out on our way back to the ranch. Then you can find me when I'm able to get some privacy."

"Roger that, partner," Navi said, flew off to resume her watch high overhead.

* * *

"You should have been asleep candlemarks ago."

Malon turned and blinked sleepily, looking for the source of Link's voice. It took her a moment to see that he had climbed into the back of the wagon and was laying with his head propped on his shield. His boots and sword had been removed and placed neatly to the side, and his chain-mail was airing out on top of a packing crate. Overall, he looked fairly comfortable.

"Had to wash Epona down after I fed her," Malon said, putting a hand to her mouth to cover a mighty yawn, then continued. "Horses require a lot of care-taking. You can't let something like good hygiene slide or else you'll be looking at a lot of trouble down the road."

"I offered to do it for you," He said.

Malon shook her head. "Epona doesn't like anyone touching her, especially strangers. She won't even let Ingo near her, and she's known him her entire life," Her eyes shifted. "Not that I can blame her..."

He watched her silently for a moment, torchlight from the market square causing his blue-grey eyes to sparkle in the darkness. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, as if he knew some secret that she wasn't privy to, but he shrugged and rolled over. "Just try to get some rest. You certainly earned it today."

_An understatement, _She thought as she walked around to the front of the wagon and climbed in. Her muscles were so sore and stiff that she could barely walk, much less crawl into the wagon, but she eventually made it. It took her longer than it should have due to her aching body, but she was able to find a spare saddle blanket that she kept for Epona. It was approaching midnight, and with the drop in temperature the blanket would serve her well.

In minutes she had her own little nest laid out in the front of the wagon. After a moment's contemplation she decided to shift an empty crate into the middle of the wagon, giving herself a small measure of privacy before she laid down.

The last thing she heard before sweet oblivion overtook her was Link's amused chuckle.

* * *

Hope you guys liked this one, I had a hell of a time writing it, especially after my computer crashed and I lost half of it. /wrists

Remember to review!

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	7. Chapter 6: Home Again

The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling

**Author's Notes:**

Chapter was getting long so I chopped it up. Full notes in my profile.

* * *

Chapter 6: Home Again

* * *

They awoke the next morning later than Malon would have liked, Link's excuse being that she desperately needed the rest after the previous day's ordeal and he didn't want to disturb her for breakfast. That she had slept through not only the rooster calls but the town's morning bells told her that he was probably right, so her complaints were more just to keep up appearances. The sweet-roll he handed her by way of apology certainly helped curb her temper.

Malon's joints and muscles protested from a night spent on hard wooden planks, but within minutes of her awakening they had cleaned up and had Epona hitched to the wagon. Before they set out, Malon made sure she paid the stable-boy a tip for watching over Epona during the night. He stared at the shiny blue gem in his palm, a look of wonder on his dirt-smudged face before he clenched his fist tight, then turned and ran off with a toothy grin.

"That was awfully generous of you," Link said.

"I'm not the only one who has to make a living," Malon replied, replacing the wallet on her belt. It jingled softly, bulging with her recent earnings. "It's not much, but if he's thrifty it should feed him for a couple of days at least."

Soon afterward, they set off, exiting out of the same gate they had used to previous day. As they passed, the man standing guard frowned and looked at the docket he had been given from the previous watch. He looked as if he were about to say something, then stopped and shook his head, and gestured to the gatekeeper to let them through.

They passed the early candlemarks back to the ranch in silence, though it was not as tense as the journey the day before. Feathery bands of clouds had moved in overnight, blunting the hammering force of the sun somewhat. Epona seemed happier as well, more eager to make the day's journey now that the wagon weighed significantly less with its cargo unloaded.

Towards noon they came to the spot where the road brushed against the river, the same place that Malon had been attacked the day before. As before, she unharnessed Epona to allow her to drink unhindered, but she did not step into the river herself. Instead, she sat in the wagon, her shoulders hunched as she sullenly watched Epona step into the shallows.

Link approached her cautiously, noting the distracted look in her eyes. "You look like your favorite pet died," He said, offering her a cattail stalk that he had dug up from the shallows.

Malon's unfocused gaze wavered before she looked at him with a tired smile. "I'm fine. Just ... a bit dead on my feet." She took the proffered cattail with a quiet "Thanks," and began to peel the shoot.

Link nodded in understanding and climbed up to sit beside her on the bench. Malon shifted her position slightly, giving him more space. They sat for a moment, quietly chewing on the tender cattail hearts, and he noticed that her posture seemed to relax as she focused on her snack.

Malon finished hers first, and she tossed the husk over the side before turning to Link. "You mentioned yesterday that you were looking for someone."

Link finished chewing before he answered, giving himself a moment to think. "I wouldn't say I'm really looking for him, since I have no idea where to look in the first place. More like wandering aimlessly in the hopes that I run into him."

Malon nodded, but the answer didn't seem to satisfy her curiosity. "Do you mind if I ask who you're trying to find?"

"A Shiekah," He said cryptically, tossing the remains of his snack into the river.

Malon blinked, her expression skeptical. "Bullshit."

Link laughed. "It's true," He said. "At least, he fits all of the descriptions of one. Red eyes, silent as a ghost, enigmatic to a fault."

"Uh-huh," She said, one incredulous crimson eyebrow cocked. "And I suppose that this is the same Sheikah that you learned medicine from?"

"Actually, that was an older woman that I met ... a long time ago," Link said.

Malon scoffed and threw him a pout. "Fine, be that way and don't tell me."

Link spread his hands. "Hey, I can't prove that they really were Sheikah, but there's no way that I can disprove it either. So until someone comes up with a better description, that's what I'll call them."

Malon nodded as she processed the information, still unsure as to whether she believed his tall tale, but unable to find a reason to doubt his word. "So until you run into him again ... what are your plans?"

Link's eyes lost focus as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. "Honestly? I have no idea. I've been to most of the major villages in Hyrule, but people start to give you strange looks if you mention you're looking for a member of an extinct race.

"I've been thinking maybe I should just head to one of the larger towns like Kakariko and camp out for a while. Maybe he'll find me instead. I suppose I could try to find some work at a stable or an inn or something, somewhere that I'll be able to keep an eye on everyone passing through."

Malon nodded again, and before the words had even entered her head, she found herself asking, "Does that mean you're looking for a job?"

Link opened his mouth to reply, then shut it as he registered the tone of her question. "I might be," He said with a sideways glance, his voice carefully neutral. "Why do you ask?"

Malon blinked, and a crimson patina colored her cheeks. "It's … just that … with autumn right around the corner, we're starting to enter the busy season, and we've been understaffed for years," She said, and found that, though the words continued to spill from her unbidden, the idea was starting to grow on her. "For the past couple of years we've been really hurting for extra hands, especially during harvest time when we receive nearly twice as many orders as the rest of the year.

"The problem is, we've never really been able to find anyone that can be trusted around the horses. The last man we hired tried to make off with our best stallion in the dead of night, and the one before that was part of a slavery ring.

"In fact, I think that if you were to work for us, you'd have the best chance of finding your friend," She said, her sapphire-blue eyes sparkling with excitement at the possibilities as her thoughts fully coalesced. "Our ranch is basically in the dead center of Hyrule, which would give you easy access to most of the major villages. I'm sure that you'd find your friend in no time."

Link nodded, finding no fault with her premise. "And you trust me enough to offer me a job at your ranch?"

Malon paused, a pensive frown creasing her forehead. Her gaze swept back towards the dusty road ahead as she spoke. "Well, you've been ... very generous with your time," She paused for a moment, then continued. "You've been more than generous, really. I can't come out and say that I trust you implicitly, because I really don't know you very well. But you've..." She trailed off, and growled in frustration. "Look, I'm not very good talking about this kind of stuff, but I appreciate everything that you did for me yesterday. I feel like I ... No, I _do_ owe you something in return."

Malon held up a hand to stall his protest. "I'll have to discuss it with Ingo, but I think he'll agree to hiring you, at least until winter or whenever you find your friend. I can't promise much beyond room and board," She finally turned and looked into his patient gaze. "Would you … maybe be interested?"

"I'd be honored," Link said. Malon held out her hand, and they shook, sealing the deal. _And with any luck, _He thought to himself,_ I'll be able to see what's happened with Ingo and her father as well._

* * *

Both remained quiet as they rode around the last bend in the road leading to Lon Lon Ranch. The high, foreboding walls jutted upwards from a mesa that had formed in the center of the field, a rocky island in the vast grassy sea. Twilight was swiftly approaching, though the sun had already set behind a bank of thunderclouds making their way over the mountains.

Link wondered about the early history of the ranch. He knew that it had not always belonged to the Lon family, but past that he had never really asked. When he was younger, such things had rarely mattered. Back then it had initially appeared to be a castle, at least to his limited viewpoint. Now though, to his older, more experienced eyes, it looked to be better suited to warding off invading armies. The fact that it had managed to survive the past seven years amidst Ganondorf's rule and the subsequent monster incursion was a testament to its design.

The mighty iron gates that guarded the only entrance to the ranch were smaller than Link remembered. The first time he had seen them they had towered over him, an immense and powerful symbol of the protection they offered the ranch. Now though, they seemed smaller, almost diminished somehow. Link dismounted and strode towards the gates, noting that he now stood at eye level to the highest rail. Years of rust and grime had taken their toll, and the gates parted with a sharp groan of protest, requiring several sharp yanks before he could fully open them.

Link led the wagon as they entered the ranch and made their way up the familiar narrow cobblestone path between the barn and the main house. He paused when they came to the second gate and stared sadly at the ranch's crest mounted above. The bull head that had for so long been an indelible icon of the ranch had lost one of its horns, and the 'O' in the second Lon was missing. It was a sobering reminder that, even if the ranch was still operating, nothing had escaped the withering decay brought about by Ganondorf's rise to power.

Malon stepped gingerly from the wagon and unfastened a keyring from her belt, which she used to unlock the gate. She took no notice of the dilapidated state of the buildings around her, most likely, Link thought, because she was so used to it by now. However, the last time that Link had been here the ranch had been in good repair, and the changes were disquieting.

Malon opened the gate and led Epona around and past the barn. She drew her up even with the ouside wall so that the wagon was tucked out of the way, and began removing Epona's harness. The young mare pawed at the ground anxiously, eager to be free of its burden.

Malon patted the horse's flank in a reassuring gesture. "Patience girl, we'll get you fed soon enough. I swear, you're always thinking with your stomach..."

Link chuckled. "I've been accused of that a few times myself."

Epona pranced forward the second Malon flicked open the last latch, causing the wagon tongues to clatter to the ground. The mare turned at Malon's frustrated yelp and began nibbling at her hair.

Malon laughed, pushing the horse away. "Okay, okay, I get the message. Food time now."

"Better get her fed before she starts snacking on your hair," Link said.

Malon nodded, then turned to him with an apologetic smile. "Well, if you're going to be working here, I suppose there's no time like the present," She pointed towards a small shack behind the barn. "If you could please start unloading the crates and stack them inside, I'll go get Epona situated in the barn. Just come and find me when you're done and I'll see what I can do about dinner."

She began to leave, but then turned back with a blush. "Oh, excuse me, where are my manners?" She said, bowing formally. "Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch."

* * *

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	8. Chapter 7: Fractures

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

Warning: This chapter has some graphic, unpleasant content. Those readers that are able to handle themselves in a mature fashion may continue reading. Anyone with weak sensibilities or that gets offended easily can skip this chapter and still be able to keep up with the rest of the story.

* * *

Chapter 7: Fractures

* * *

_Sometimes, those that appear strong have only had more practice at hiding the scars._

* * *

The heavy iron keys clattered dully as Malon flipped through the ring, searching for the proper one to open the barn. She flicked out the correct key and slid it into the rusty old lock, scowling as the worn metal fought against her. The ranch was falling apart, and it took all of her effort just to try to keep it in its current state of disrepair. Hopefully Ingo wouldn't argue with her about hiring her new friend so they could finally work on improving the condition of the ranch instead of merely fighting a losing battle against attrition.

As they had passed the house she had noticed that no lamps had been lit inside, so she had thought that perhaps Ingo might have been working in the barn. However, after straining to push open one of the double sliding doors at the back of the building, there appeared to be no one inside. Only the low chuffing sounds and tepid, musky scent of dozens of dozing animals locked up inside for too long greeted her.

Epona brushed past her and stepped into the barn, obediently heading for her open stall. Malon followed cautiously and made her way towards the front door. She pulled a lantern from its alcove and lit it, casting a warm golden glow about the barn as the light cut back the shadows. Dozens of pairs of sleepy, doleful eyes sparkled back at her from the darkness.

"Huh. Looks like Ingo isn't here," She said, mostly to herself, and hung the lantern high on a post to give her the best light.

_Typical,_ She thought with a flash of anger. _Knowing him he's probably down at the tavern again, drinking and gambling away our meager earnings. _Not for the first time did she feel the desire to take her newly filled wallet and hide it somewhere safe. Unfortunately, if there was one thing Ingo was good at, it was finances. Even if she were to just give him half of her earnings, he would know that she was holding back on him. The best that she had ever been able to do was to skim a couple rupees here and there and stow them beneath a loose floorboard in her room, but as a safety buffer in case of emergency expenses it left much to be desired.

She walked a circuit around the barn, propping open windows as she went in an attempt to bring in some fresh air and the last bits of waning sunlight. As she passed one of the stalls a chocolate-colored mare stuck its head out and whickered softly in greeting.

Malon smiled and rubbed the mare's black speckled nose affectionately. "Good evening, Rhiannon. How's Mama doing today?" She asked, using her old nickname for the elder mare. Rhiannon nipped at her chin, then turned and butted her head against her water trough. Malon leaned over the stall door for a better look and saw that only a few tepid sips of water remained at the bottom.

"Damnit, Ingo..." She swore quietly. Apparently he had been in too much of a hurry to drown himself in liquor to be bothered to look after the animals properly.

She reached in and patted the mare's muzzle in sympathy. "All right darlin', I know you're thirsty. Give me a second and I'll get you set up proper."

The mare shook its ivory mane and pawed at the straw-strewn floor, watching impatiently as Malon retrieved the water bucket and went to fill it from from the well at the back of the barn.

Long ago the simple act of hauling water would have been a strenuous task, but years of hard labor had blessed her with lean muscle in her arms and back, allowing her to quickly haul the full bucket of water up onto the lip of the well. As she set it down on the wood with a gentle _thmp_, the light from an open window caught the water at just the right angle, and she saw a glimpse of her reflection. Her hand automatically went to straighten her sweat-mussed hair, but she paused when the sloshing water shifted the reflection, and drew her hand lower. The puffy skin around her left eye had turned a sickly yellow, centered around a shallow cut just beneath the lower eyelid.

"What do you think, Rhiannon? Think it will be gone by tomorrow?" She asked the mare, then snorted quietly to herself. "Not that it would matter now though, would it? I've got a brand new matching collection of bruises to go along with it."

It was strange. Just this morning she had been aching from the multitude of bruises all over her body, but now that she found herself reminded of the one that she had received before, she found herself aware of its dull burn more than any other. She turned and tucked the pail against her hip, and her chest tightened as she began to pour the water into the drinking trough inside of the stall. As the water poured into the trough, so too did memories begin flooding her thoughts, and couldn't help but think of her ordeal only three nights ago...

* * *

The hushed sounds and familiar musky scents of the barn tickled her senses as Malon collapsed backwards into a pile of soft hay laid out in an empty horse stall. She inhaled deeply, paused, then let her breath out slowly and groaned in boneless pleasure as her sore muscles reveled in the respite after a particularly long day.

_Animals are fed and watered, cuccos are tucked in, gates are locked,_She thought sleepily, recounting her mental checklist, _All closed up for the night. Now I__ can finally get some rest..._

She stretched luxuriously, buoyed upon the bed of hay, and curled up on her side. Her crimson hair coiled around the curves of her throat in long, wavy lengths, and she tucked her slender arms beneath her head, using them as a makeshift pillow. Before long she felt the alluring siren's call of sleep begin to sweep her away.

There were several reasons that she had chosen to nap in the barn that night, the foremost being that Elma, their four year old mare, was nearing the end of her third trimester. It was her first pregnancy and she required constant attention to ensure that the foal was birthed properly. It was Malon's first foaling as well – or rather, the first time she would be expected to handle it without the help of her father. The truth was that since she didn't have thousands of years of ingrained instinct to fall back on that she felt better by keeping a constant eye on the mare.

The second reason was more personal. She had fallen asleep in the barn not only to keep an eye on the pregnant mare, but because Ingo had gone out drinking again, and she didn't want to be trapped in the house with him when he returned. One night, several months ago, she had seen firsthand how violent the man could become when he returned to the ranch after a poor night of cards. Their dinner table had not balanced evenly on all of its legs since, and Malon had been forced to purchase a new ladle to replace the one that had ended up snapped in half.

Luckily for her she had been upstairs at the time and had managed to duck around the landing before Ingo caught her watching, but she had been witness to the full extent of the man's drunken rampage. She had promised herself that she would do all that she could to avoid being caught on the receiving end, so she decided that avoidance was the best course of action.

Her luck had managed to hold out for the past several months, until tonight.

She was dozing lightly when Ingo staggered in, reeking of ale and cigar smoke. He hobbled forward slowly, weaving to and fro on drunken, unsteady legs and mumbling sharp curses under his breath. His hands shot out to steady himself against the side of the stall, which shuddered violently and jerked Malon from her rest.

She had left a full pail of water on the floorboards outside of the stall she had chosen to sleep in, in case Elma were to go into labor and she quickly needed the water.

When Ingo took another unsteady step forward, he tripped against the pail, sending its contents splashing across the floor and under the stall door. Malon gasped and drew her legs up in an effort to avoid the sudden torrent.

Ingo turned at the sound and peered into the stall, his eyes clouded with the dull glaze of the heavily inebriated, but after a moment of concentration he managed to focus his mind long enough to glared at Malon.

"Wha… whut ith thishhit?" He asked, taking a swipe at the bucket with his foot. He missed, which sent him off balance and nearly sprawling into the stall, and only served to stoke his anger.

"I thhhought I told yuh to… cleathis plathe up!" He swung his arms out to encompass the barn. "Jus look at thiss... at thish shit. Thures water _everywhere_."

Malon propped herself up on her elbows and felt the color drain from her face. "I-I did, Ingo," She said, and swallowed nervously before continuing. "I made s-sure the barn was cleaned and we were locked up for the night. I even stacked th—"

Ingo bent over and slapped her sharply across the face, shocking her into silence. "Sh_hhhhh_ut up yah lazy bitch!" He screamed. "I tol' yah I wanted thish place … _spolesss_ before I come back, but look at thishh shhhithole!"

Fear seized her heart when he stumbled forward and stood over her, his legs planted unsteadily on either side of her.

"Fuckin ... _whore. _Tha's wut you are..."

He swiped at her viciously, his swings unbalanced as she curled up into a protective ball. She felt his unsteady blows strike her upraised arms, flinched back from his slurred cursing, but tried to ignore all of his insults as she held her legs tighter to her chest. His blows did not land with the power or accuracy that he would have were he sober, so she quickly decided that her best chance was to hope that he would quickly grow tired of the beating. She knew that if she tried to fight him off, Ingo would only get that much more brutal.

She couldn't remember if he had stumbled or if it was on purpose, but suddenly he was inches from her face, his rotten breath making her eyes water. She had taken all of his abuse in stride, but when she felt his cold, clammy lips on hers, her eyes shot open in panic. All rational thought fled her mind and she lashed out reflexively. Her foot struck out and connected between his legs with perfect accuracy. She leapt to her feet and dashed from the barn, leaving Ingo to groan piteously on the floor and clutch his family gems in agony.

Malon ran, her bare feet flying across the dew dappled lawn, and escaped into the main house. She took the stairs three at a time and retreated to her room, locking the door behind her before she flung herself on her bed and burrowed beneath the thick covers.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she fought to find her breath. Her heart was pumping wildly in her ears as she struggled to choke back heavy sobs. She snuggled deeper beneath the thick comforter and brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly as she rocked lightly back and forth.

She clenched her teeth to hold back the sobs until her jaw ached. Tentatively, she brought a trembling hand to her lips, wishing the pain in her heart away.

_They're poisoned, I just know it, _She thought miserably.

He had taken her first kiss, and it was horrible. In her rational mind she knew she would be fine, that she had escaped for now, but in her heart she had always held onto the romantic notion that one day she would meet someone she could care for, and her first time would be something special. Now her dream would remain just that; a dream. Nothing more.

Tears continued to stream down her face to soak into the thick cotton bedding as she hummed her mother's favorite song, the song that she herself loved to sing when she was feeling miserable. She lay there long into the night, singing quietly to herself until eventually she fell into a deep sleep.

Early the next morning, it had required a force of will to leave her sanctuary in order to cook breakfast and milk the cows. Once in the barn, she easily settled into her usual rhythm, using the gentle _pssst pssst_ of the milk splashing into an empty pail to calm her nerves and try to forget about the previous night.

In fact, she had become so lost in the milking process that she hadn't heard the door creak open behind her. She turned, startled as a dark shadow loomed over her, and flinched when she saw Ingo standing behind her, anger and humiliation burning in his eyes. She noted with dismay that he was sober. Now his blows would fall with both greater power and accuracy.

The slap sent her sprawling, spinning her around. The force of the blow was enough to cause her to fall off of the stool and onto the hardwood floor. A sharp spike of pain lanced up her side as she landed on her ribs. She raised a hand to her stinging eye as she turned to look fearfully at Ingo, who was now standing over her, his fists clenched in rage.

The fury etched into the lines of his face caused her to flinch backwards. "Don't you ever hit me again, you filthy little wench. Now get back to work. I'm going to drive you 'till your hands are nothing but _bone!_" He spit a great glob of phlegmy mucus onto the floor next to her, then turned and stalked out of the barn, fuming.

* * *

"What're you doing?"

The voice behind her cut through her unpleasant reverie like a scalpel through butter. A spike of fear seized the breath in her lungs. She spun, an irrational part of her mind telling her that Ingo had come back for another beating.

Link had entered the barn through the open door behind her while she hadn't been paying attention. A worried frown creased his forehead as he approached her. "You okay?"

She inhaled deeply in an effort to soothe her racing heart. "I'm … fine. Just spaced out for a moment," She swallowed nervously. "You scared me."

He paused, as if unsure of himself. His stormy eyes swept over her and around the barn, studying his surroundings carefully, before coming back to her. His gaze flicked downwards, and slowly swept up her body until he was looking straight into her eyes. She didn't feel like he was appraising her, like Ingo would do whenever he was particularly drunk. He merely examined her, evaluating. It left her feeling naked and vulnerable, but for some reason, she was struggling to find a reason to be offended. A small part of her mind was screaming that she was cornered in the barn by a man that had proven that he was capable of killing a group of other men without breaking a sweat, but the fact that he had been nothing but kind and gentle with her tempered the fear in her gut.

It certainly didn't hurt that he had a certain rugged handsomeness. Her pulse was picking up again, but for a completely different reason than before. She dipped her head meekly but did not break eye contact, and wondered how long he was planning to stare at her. A part of her hoped he wouldn't stop.

"I'm sorry, for scaring you," He said softly.

Malon blinked, and she waved away his apology, partly as a way to distract him from her flushed face. "It's my fault. I should have been paying attention."

She looked around the barn, eager for a new topic, then realized that the barn itself suited her needs perfectly. "Here, let me show you around real quick," She said, and gave him an abbreviated tour. She pointed out the animal pens, introducing Link to their current complement of seven horses and eight milk cows. The feed bins were located in the back by the well, taking up nearly the entire wall. The entire second story of the barn was taken up by the hayloft, and she showed him the winch that allowed them to lift the massive bales of hay into the air. They circled the entire barn, until finally they were once more standing in front of Epona's stall.

Link nodded and followed along as she gave her tour. He knew where everything was, of course. Not much had changed from seven years ago, but since Malon didn't appear to recognize him, he decided that he would discreet about how much he already knew.

"Now if only we could figure out how to get these pipes to work again," She said with a sigh, gesturing to a copper tube that ran the length of the barn along the walls a meter above their heads.

"What do those do?" Link asked. He didn't remember there being copper pipes lining the walls seven years ago. Then again, he had been preoccupied with a spunky young redhead, so he just might not have noticed them.

"They're _supposed_ to feed water from the reservoir to all of the water troughs," She said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear. "But they haven't worked in nearly a year, and damned if I can figure out how to fix them."

Link's eyes followed her hand as she drew her hair back, then his gaze settled on the sallow smudge beneath her left eye. "You didn't really give me a straight answer before. Did someone hit you here, before yesterday?" He indicated her eye, his voice quiet with concern.

Malon blinked, startled at the unexpected turn of conversation. "Um … no. No, I was ... breaking in one of the new colts and I was thrown. I guess I had gotten overconfident and wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been," She shook her head with a wry smile, and touched the tender skin beneath her eye. "Good thing I managed to break my fall though. It could have been a lot worse."

Link nodded carefully. "Yes," he agreed. "It's a good thing that you somehow managed to avoid hurting your hands on the way down."

Malon desperately fought the urge to hide her hands behind her back. A nagging thought quivered in the back of her mind; _Does he know__ that I'm lying?_

He stepped closer towards her, closing the respectful distance he had kept since first entering the barn, never letting his gaze break from hers. She thought she felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the intensity burning in his steel-blue eyes, and reevaluated her earlier impression of him. _Oh Goddesses, he is __**cute!**_

"Then why don't you leave if the work is too rough?" He asked, taking another half-step forward. He waited patiently for her reply, watching her carefully as the gears in her mind spun. Though he was now standing rather close to her, almost intimately so, Malon felt that he meant no harm with his questions. She could feel the warmth in his words as he spoke them, as if he was truly worried about her.

Something inside of her wanted to tell him the whole story, to finally get it all off her chest, but another part of her held back, not wanting to get into any more trouble than she already had. A fierce battle of inner turmoil rose and fell within her within the span of a breath as she desperately tried to make up her mind.

_C'mon girl, tell him the truth. He's trustworthy…_

_Don't! Think of what Ingo would do if he found out you snitched on him?_

_There's nothing to worry about. It'll be all right. He saved you from a group of bandits, he can certainly protect you from one scrawny ranch hand…_

_Do you really think he'd be able to protect you forever? Think of what'll happen after he leaves…_

_Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell tell tell…_

Malon shook her head to silence the brief mental skirmish. "I… If I… If I leave, Ingo, he'll hurt m— he might abuse the horses…" She stroked her arm thoughtfully and turned away, unable to meet his intense stare as she ran with the half-truth. "He's not very good at taking care of the animals."

Link was quiet for a moment as he absorbed her words, his gaze searching her face as if to evaluate whether she was telling him the full truth. It was strange how piercing his eyes could be, dark as a thundercloud on a summer's day.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he moved, reaching out towards her with his gloved hand. Malon froze in shock, her eyes wide. She could smell the worn leather of his glove, hear the shifting leather rustle mere inches from her left cheek. She wet her suddenly parched lips as his face inched closer to hers, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart hammered against her breast and a brilliant blush formed on her sun-kissed cheeks. _W—what is he doing? I … I just met him yesterday, it's too soo—_

Malon jumped slightly as she heard Epona snort behind her, causing her to gasp in surprise. Link gently stroked the mare's muzzle, whose curiosity had caused her to pause from her eating and investigate. Malon felt shivers run down her spine as he spoke close to her ear in little more than a whisper, "No one should be able to abuse such a beautiful…" He glanced sideways at her though his bangs. "… horse."

Malon inhaled sharply. _Oh Goddesses, he __**knows**__! I don't know how, but he knows!_

Suddenly Link's eyes flicked to the left, and he pulled back, his face burning a light crimson as he retreated back towards the open barn door. Malon raised a hand to her breast, feeling the rapid pulse of her heartbeat. As he stepped towards the door, she unconsciously reached her other hand out towards him. She didn't want her guest to leave her company just yet. "Wait…"

"_Malon!_"

Malon jumped, Ingo's angry call sending a lighting bolt of anxiety though her entire body. She turned, realizing that while she had been distracted by Link, Ingo had entered the barn from the front entrance and was approaching quickly. She fought to steady her breathing, eyeing Ingo with a heady mixture of fear and defiance as he stalked towards her. "What do you want?" She asked, knowing full well it would probably earn her another slap later.

Ingo stalked towards her, his hands clenched into fists with rage. "Where the hell have you been? You said you'd be back by sundown yesterday. Do you know how long I waited for you to get back and make dinner? To top it off, I had to do all of your chores today as well as my own." He stopped in front of her, aiming an accusing finger directly at her face. "You were out there whoring yourself off again, weren't you? _Weren't you!_"

Malon stared straight past his dirty, chipped nails and snarled back defiantly. "Well _forgive me _for nearly being abducted and raped to death! _You_ can certainly make your own dinner while I'm busy protecting our livelihood." She pinched her nose. "Smells like you already fed yourself a liquid meal anyway. You _reek_ of alcohol."

Ingo stared at her, momentarily dumbstruck by her uncharacteristic obstreperousness, before rage once again caused his features to darken. "You arrogant little _bitch!_" Spittle flew from his moved as he yelled. He raised his hand, pulling back for a powerful slap.

Malon flinched backwards, but Ingo stopped, caught off guard as Link roughly cleared his throat and stepped out of the shadows. Ingo tried to recover, aborting his slap by running his hand through his thinning hair, but failed miserably at making it look convincing. "Who the hell are you?" He snarled.

Link opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when Ingo's eyes widened and he whirled back to Malon. "You little _whore._ Your weekly Kakariko trips not enough to tip your bonnet, now you're turning tricks in _m__y_ barn?"

"_Our_ barn," Malon corrected him, then gestured to indicate Link. "He's the reason I'm here at all and not bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. He saved my life." She said flatly, looking to Link to continue introducing himself.

"'sthat so?" Ingo turned, eyeing Link skeptically as if appraising a questionable slab of beef. "And are you here to buy something, or just wasting my valuable time flirting with the help?"

Malon snarled silently, but before she could reply, Link cut in. "Actually sir, I'm not a customer. Just a traveler passing though. As Malon said, I helped her fend off some bandits on the road to New Ordon, and she mentioned that you might have a position available for a stable hand. I was hoping to offer my services."

"She told you that, did she?" Ingo sneered, turning a venomous glare in Malon's direction. She stared back defiantly, as if daring him to claim otherwise.

Link pressed on. "I'm told that autumn is your busy season and you rarely have enough time to handle all of the orders by yourselves. If you had someone else on hand to, say, work around the ranch while Malon was out delivering orders, you'd be able to avoid situations like yesterday where almost no work was accomplished. Your profits would nearly double."

A greedy fire ignited in Ingo's eyes at the mention of more profits, but his expression soured when he thought about how much that he would have to pay a new stable hand. Malon, no matter how hard he drove her, was only one person, and a _girl_ at that. She really couldn't do the brute labor that was involved in maintaining the ranch. Sure, she could make a half-decent effort of it if he yelled at her long enough, but having a man around that could do most of the strenuous work would go a long way towards making this place more bearable. They could really use the extra help, even if it did cost him a bit more in the short run.

Ingo stroked his unkempt mustache in thought. "Well, seeing as we're going through some tough times right now, I can't afford to pay you very much."

Link nodded. "I understand. Malon mentioned that I couldn't expect much beyond room and board. Since I'm just passing through the area it's really the best deal I can expect anywhere."

Ingo looked pleased. "Oh, well then, I would be happy to have you work for me— _us._ But as I said, I can only pay you a very modest amount. Fifteen rupees a week is the best I can do," he offered.

Malon nearly gagged at the proposition. She knew of a few beggars who made more than that.

Link merely smiled. He wasn't here for the money, so the wage was perfectly fine. "Deal," He said, holding out his gloved hand. Ingo looked nonplussed, expecting Link to fight for a higher wage, but recovered quickly. Shrugging, he took Link's outstretched hand and shook it, sealing the deal.

Malon looked on with quiet amusement as the exchange took place. She had also been surprised that he had taken such a small salary. Any worker worth his salt would have bartered for more money, especially in these hard times, but the newcomer had let it go without any struggle. From the looks of him, he certainly wasn't a greenhorn, which made his acceptance all the more confusing.

It wasn't enough to make her suspicious of his motives, it was just … curious. She was pleased, however, to see him wipe his hand on the back of his tunic. _At least I'm not the only one who can't stand his oily hands._

Ingo apparently didn't notice. "Yes, well then, er … Link, was it? Malon here will show you where you can sleep in the barn. I'm terribly sorry that we can't keep you in the main house, but we just don't have the space available, I'm afraid."

_Liar, _Malon thought with a frown. _We've got three rooms just waiting to be used. Granted, they need a little sprucing up, and the moths are devouring th__e mattresses, but it's still got to be more comfortable than sleeping out here._ She kept the thought to herself, however, feeling that she had already tested Ingo's wrath enough for one night. She made a mental note to inspect the house's other bedrooms later to see if any were still habitable.

Malon's attention returned to the conversation just long enough to hear Ingo wrap it up. "I'll expect to see you ready to work bright and early tomorrow morning out by the horse paddock," he said. "I have a very long list of jobs that you can get started on." With that, Ingo turned and left, whistling a jaunty, off-pitch drinking tune.

Malon sighed after the door had closed behind him. "Sanctimonious..." She gritted her teeth, physically holding her unflattering description in, and turned to Link. "You'll notice that he didn't once comment on my bruises. As if I were off ... sleeping around with strange men. The nerve..." She inhaled deeply in an effort to calm herself, then nodded to Link. "Thank you, for having my back."

Link snorted. "I could almost see him rubbing his hands together the second I mentioned more profit." He rubbed his hands together and cackled like a seedy storybook villain. "_Mwua-ha-ha-ha..._"

Malon chuckled darkly, then rubbed her temples. "Ugh, I shouldn't have been so mouthy to him. I'm only going to pay for it later..." She walked to the well to fill another bucket of water.

Link strolled casually toward Epona, giving her a rub. "Does Ingo usually talk like that, or just when he's trying to sucker people into something?"

Malon laughed frostily. "You're right on the mark. His first and last thoughts are about personal profit. Once you've learned that, it's actually pretty easy to deal with him most of the time." She turned to aim a smile at Link, pulling a full bucket of water from the well, and paused when she saw Link gently rubbing Epona. She watched, stunned as the horse nuzzled his cheek affectionately and nipped at his chin.

_Why is Epona being so friendly to him? She's only ever been friendly with Father and me, and... _She felt a flicker of recognition, but it was gone before she could latch onto it. She frowned, but could not remember where that thought had been leading her, so she shook her head and turned to fill another horse trough with water.

With instructions from Malon, Link eagerly went about the business of feeding the horses while she continued to manually fill their water troughs. He did a reasonably good job of it, and she was surprised to learn that he already knew how to properly separate the bales of hay. Maybe she had made a good choice by offering to hire him.

Malon rotated a tender shoulder, feeling the aching burn in her arms and back. The first bucket had been a piece of cake, but after her twelfth her biceps began to protest angrily. The labour was exhausting in her current state, and by the time she had finished watering the horses she had worked up a mild sweat.

_Just another hazard of the job,_ she thought. It was tough, strenuous work, but she loved her ranch, and she wouldn't give it up for the world. If she had to suffer through sore muscles and smell of sweat and livestock at the end of the day, so be it.

Malon stretched her arms over her head and hooked her hands in her hair as she watched Link finish feeding the last of the colts. She noted that he had a dark splash of mud across the back of his tunic, which caused her to look down and inspect her own clothes. Her skirt was stained and smeared with mud from having been roughly pushed into the dirt, and she had grass-stains on her knees.

She turned away from Link and took a furtive sniff of her blouse. She crinkled her nose. _Fugh._

She called his name, and once she had his attention, said, "Don't know about you, but after working like a mule for the past couple days I could really use a bath before I start dinner. Would you like one?"

Instead of answering, Link merely blinked and raised a curious eyebrow. After a moment, a fierce blush spread across Malon's face. "Not _together!_"

"Too easy," Link laughed. "And I'd love a bath."

Malon covered her face, buying herself a moment before she could trust herself to speak. "I'll go start the water boiling then. Can you finish up feeding and watering the cows?"

Link nodded. "Sure thing. Three scoops of feed and five flakes of hay for each cow, right?"

Malon paused, blinking in surprise. "That's ... very good. You already know how to feed cows too?"

There was that same secretive smile again. She wondered what it meant.

"I know my way around a barn," Link said cryptically.

Malon nodded. "That's good, then we can get started right away tomorrow," She paused, thinking. "Well, you're welcome to explore the ranch if you finish up before I'm done. I guess the only places that are really off limits are the upstairs bedrooms in the house."

Link nodded and waved her off. "Enjoy your bath."

* * *

Malon nuzzled her face into the fresh cotton towel and inhaled its sweet scent. The downy towels she used for bathing were made from the softest wool of Ordon ewes, and were one of the few luxuries she allowed herself on the ranch.

The last time she was in Kakariko, she had overheard several women discussing the best ways to keep their sheets fresh, and had decided to try one of their suggested recipes by crushing certain flowers into a white paste and mixing it into the soap, giving the cloth a floral scent without having to worry about staining the fabric.

In her mind, her experiment was a resounding success.

Malon reached across the bathtub and turned one of the bronze nozzles, causing water to spill out and begin filling the tub with cool, fresh water from the windmill reservoir. She had already filled the small cistern outside and started it boiling with a roaring fire, so upon turning the second nozzle, hot, steamy water poured into the tub as well.

She undressed quickly, eager to be out of her soiled garments. Her muscles were sore and stiff, but the promise of a nice, hot bath let her ignore such minor discomfort.

Steam rapidly began to fill the small bathroom, so she cracked open the tiny window next to the ceiling. It opened outwards from the top, allowing her a cooling breeze while still ensuring she was able to keep her privacy.

She tentatively tested the water with her toes and, finding it to be the perfect temperature, stepped into the tub.

Malon sighed happily as the water engulfed her body. _Ah, the wonders of modern technology,_ she thought as she lowered herself into the steaming tub. Six years ago she had helped her father and several of the old farmhands to retrofit the old windmill outside to divert water from the main storage tank to run through pipes laid around the ranch and throughout the house. She wondered to herself how she had ever lived without indoor plumbing.

She relaxed for several minutes, merely allowing the heat to work its way into her sore muscles. When she felt the tension begin to drain from her body, she laid back, held her breath, and let the water wash over her. She stayed submerged for a moment, then floated upward, pushing back her sodden hair away from her face, and reached for the soap and washcloth. She began by diligently cleaning her hands, removing the past few day's grime from under her nails, then began washing her forearms.

She stopped. Frowned.

Her hands were shaking.

She stared at them for a moment, confused. Though she tried, she found that she couldn't hold them still. She continued washing, pressing down harder to compensate for her apparent lack of composure.

_Lascivious leers staring down at her, surrounding her,_

_hungry eyes and rotten smiles evaluating her_

_like a piece of meat..._

She hunched forward in the bath as the images crashed against her like a tidal wave. Her hair fell forward, framing her face. She sheltered there, hidden amongst the crimson curls from the outside world as she continued to wash her trembling arms.

_Hands like iron claws holding her down,_

_striking her,_

_roughly groping and kneading her flesh as they_

_crawled inexorably up her thigh..._

She scrubbed at her arms, harder and harder, until her ordinarily tanned skin was raw and cherry-red.

She wasn't clean.

She needed to be clean.

_Their foul breath, nauseating, suffocating her. The feel of one of their_

_repulsive tongues on her neck,_

_another with his hands wrapped around her throat, choking the breath from her lungs..._

Her breath started coming in shallow pants. She fought to fill her lungs with precious oxygen, but found that she could not no matter how hard she tried. It was as if her body had chosen to abandon her, as if it no longer belonged to her.

Belonged to someone else.

_She fights. She fights hard._

_It doesn't save her._

_Dirty, cracked nails clawing up her long legs, searching_

_along the gentle curve of her hips, catching_

_on the hem of her panties,_

_tearing..._

The washcloth splashed into the bathwater, forgotten. She cupped her face in her hands, and tremors rippled through her entire body. Her shoulders shook with gentle sobs as tears ran down her cheeks.

* * *

A while later, long after the water had cooled, she stepped out of the draining tub and toweled herself off before dressing in a new, clean pair of clothes.

She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, still running the towel through her long crimson tresses, which is why she wasn't able to stop herself in time before she ran straight into Link.

Malon gasped in surprise and nearly stumbled back into the bathroom. The hand Link had raised to knock on the door gripped her shoulder lightly, the other going to her waist to steady her in case she fell over. "Whoa, I was wondering if you had fallen asleep in there."

Malon took a hasty step back out of his gentle hold. She turned her head away and continued toweling her hair, using it as an excuse to hide her puffy red eyes. "Just enjoying a soak. Water felt good on the bruises," She said curtly, then tossed her head back towards the bathroom. "Fresh towels on the hanger, water comes out of the faucets on the wall. Dirty clothes go in the hamper so I can wash them later. I'll go get dinner started while you're bathing." With that, she quickly brushed past him.

Link watched curiously as Malon walked stiffly down the hallway until she turned and disappeared into her bedroom, unsure what to make of her sudden brusqueness.

Deciding to let the matter lie for now, he entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him and flipping both faucets over the tub open. By the time he had undressed and retrieved a fresh pair of clothes from the scroll on his shield, the washtub had filled and the room now held a miniature fogbank.

Link eased in into the steaming tub, pleasantly surprised by the near-scalding temperature of the water. It had been a while since he had had a real bath, even longer since he had been treated to a warm one. While he was traveling the countryside he usually had to make do with a quick dip in a freezing river if he was lucky enough to find one nearby. This was heaven by comparison.

He had just settled back into the tub when a bright blue orb zoomed through the cracked window overhead.

"_Wh__ew_, I thought I'd never get you alone," Navi chirped, and settled into a speedy orbit around Link's head.

Link squawked in surprise and made a desperate grab for his towel. Water sloshed over the lip of the tub.

"Hey! I'm naked you know!" He cried, dragging the towel over the tub to conceal his modesty. He threw a cautious look at the locked door, afraid that someone might come and investigate why he was apparently talking to himself.

Navi paused in her merry circling and stared back at him, nonplussed. "And?"

"And … and what? I'm _naked_," He hissed. "Can't this wait until later?"

"Psh, it's nothing I haven't seen it before," She said with a laugh, alighting on an empty towelhook and crossing her legs daintily. "I swear, you became such a prude after you came out of the Temple of Time. The rest of the Kokiri had no trouble bathing in the hot springs together, and as I recall you were right in there with them."

"I was a kid. We all were," He protested. "It was different then."

Navi sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Teenagers," She muttered, as if she might be blessed with salvation from this particular ordeal.

Link adjusted his towel and decided to change the subject. "I don't suppose there was any sign of a lost Sheikah while you were out scouting today?"

The faerie shook her head sadly. "Sorry, partner. No such luck."

Link hummed thoughtfully. "Whatever the reason, it's not like Sheik to be gone for this long," He said, and splashed the water in frustration.

Navi was quiet for several moments before she spoke. "I'm really not supposed to do this ... but I could ask around the faerie fountains, see if they've heard of any Sheikah in the area."

Link's eyes brightened. "That's a great idea. How long do you think it would take?" He asked.

"To hit all of the fountains in Hyrule?" Navi turned her palms upward. "Two, maybe three weeks? Perhaps less if there are some good leads."

"Just how many faerie fountains are there?" Link asked in surprise.

Navi gave a tinkling laugh. "That is a very closely guarded secret," She said smugly.

Link thought for a moment before nodding. "Do it."

* * *

After a quiet dinner Malon led Link back to the barn. She carried a couple of spare blankets and a pillow she had pilfered from one of the spare bedrooms under her arms. The moon was peaking out from behind a cloud bank, giving her just enough illumination to navigate.

Link followed quietly with a lit lantern, puzzled at her behavior. Malon had been laconic during dinner, and had refused to let him help her carry the bedding outside. It was a marked difference from her earlier energy. Even after Ingo had left them in the barn she had not been this closed off. He wondered what had happened between her leaving to draw a bath and him running into her in the hallway, but could think of no good way to ask.

Malon crossed the barn quickly and walked up to the ladder leading to the loft. She turned and tossed the pillow to him underhand, then indicated that he should climb with a quick wave of her hand. "You'll be sleeping up in the hay loft, if that's all right with you," She smiled bitterly. "That is, unless you want to sleep in one of the horse stalls."

Link adjusted his grip on the pillow and nodded. "The loft's great. I actually prefer it; When I was younger I used to sleep up in a tree-house." He put the lantern handle between his teeth and grabbed hold of the rungs, hauling himself up the ladder.

Malon promptly followed, pulling herself up the ladder with her one open hand. As she reached the top she found Link sprawled out on top of a large mound of hay and couldn't help but smile.

Link sighed blissfully. "I remember this. It's perfect," he said. He grabbed a piece of hay and stuck it in his mouth.

Malon looked at him quizzically. "Remember this from what?"

Link suppressed a grimace and explained. "My favorite napping spot when I was younger was in a place like this. I used to jump from the rafters into a large pile of hay with my friends." _Which isn't entirely false, _he added to himself. _Malon and I used to go hay jumping all the time when we were younger. I wonder if she still remembers that?_

Malon chuckled lightly and tossed him the blanket. She remembered when her life had been just as carefree. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to get your sleep. Breakfast will be ready tomorrow at dawn. I'll make us a big one to get your first day started right," She said. "I guess that means that there's going to be another mouth to feed." She started back down the ladder, already mentally arranging her morning schedule.

"Malon," Link called her name softly.

"Hmm?" She poked her head back over the top of the ladder. There was a moment of silence before he continued.

"Thank you. For everything."

Malon smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Least I could do. If you need anything else, just ask," she said, and descended the ladder.

Link spent the next several minutes arranging the bedding and hay to his liking until he had his own little nest. He shucked his boots and crawled into bed, his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. It had been a stressful couple of days, especially after the last few weeks of stagnancy.

He went over in his mind what he had learned.

One: Ingo was no longer one of many farmhands, but now appeared to own a controlling share of the ranch, and his poor management skills were threatening to send it spiraling into ruin.

Two: Malon was doing her best to keep the ranch afloat, but it was far more work than any one person could accomplish, and she wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer without it seriously affecting her health.

Three, and possibly most troubling: there was still no sign of Talon. Link didn't believe for a second that he would intentionally leave his only daughter in the position that she now found herself. He didn't know what that said about the old rancher, but he knew it couldn't be good.

Link sighed as he thought about the task laid out before him. In the absence of her father, it was Malon's duty to oversee the continued prosperity of the ranch. He wasn't sure how yet, but he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to help her achieve that goal.

It had been seven long years that he had been trapped in the Temple of Time's seemingly unending embrace. Seven years of a broken promise that he had had no chance to keep. Malon had been his only friend in this new world that he had discovered outside of the Kokiri Forest, and she had, both figuratively and literally, saved his life.

He hoped that he was able to find a way to repay her.

* * *

Down in the lane between the two buildings, Malon looked up at the soft glow emanating from an open window of the second story of the barn. She sighed, feeling a sense of guilt for not being able to work up the courage to confide in her new friend. She shook her head gently and promised herself that she would try to do better from now on. It wasn't fair to keep secrets from him after all he had done for her.

Malon took one last glance at the barn before turning to open the door of the main house. Hopefully things would be better from now on.

"Good night, Link."

* * *

My longest chapter yet. Hope this makes up for the month off I took. Please remember to read and review.

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	9. Chapter 8: Pecking Order

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

So I've been ignoring this story in favor of my original fiction and schoolwork. I would say I'm sorry, but that's life. Here's a lighter chapter for y'all to enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 8: Pecking Order

* * *

"Ca—caa_kooooooooo!_"

Link jolted from his slumber and made a grab for the hilt of his sword. His hand quickly found its place on the familiar haft behind his left shoulder, drawing it from its sheath and swinging the magnificent blade over his head and down into a fighting stance in one swift motion, instantly ready for battle. The dull golden color of the wheat in his hands shone— _huh?_

Link blinked the sleep from his eyes, wondering hazily how in the five realms his elegant Master Sword had been reduced to a few stray straws of hay. The golden wisps slowly tumbled from his fingers as he laid his arm back down to his side. His thoughts slowly pierced the hazy fog shrouding his mind and memories of the last several days came back to him.

_Just goes to show I spend too many nights away from a warm bed._ He thought, laying back down into the hay. He closed his eyes and wiped the adrenalin induced sweat from his brow.

Another thought broke through the wispy haze of disturbed sleep. _What the heck woke me up?_

"_Cakooooooooo!_"

As if summoned by his thoughts, a large cobalt-blue bird descended from the rafters and landed heavily on his chest, flapping its stubby little wings and gripping his tunic with its tiny claws in an effort to stay upright. The remaining fog was instantly wiped from Link's mind as the bird fought to regain its balance.

_Oh, it was the friggin cuccos,_ He thought, remembering the angry little birds that used to roam free across Lon Lon Ranch when he was a child. It seemed that they too had managed to survive all these years, though it didn't really surprise him. They were hardy little birds, larger and meaner than their more docile avian cousins. Chickens and ducks were by far the preferred poultry of choice for farmers, requiring less growing space and general maintenance, but cuccos were generally considered to be more flavorful and produced nearly twice as many eggs a year as chickens. They were also excellent mousers, and some people were known to use them in lieu of cats in order to keep the rat population down.

Their tempers were legendary.

The cobalt cucco watched him coldly, tilting its head to the side while one beady little eye stared at him with a frostiness that Link had rarely seen matched in sentient creatures, much less animals. It must have decided that he looked like a threat, because the blue cucco spread its wings and ruffled its feathers threateningly, puffing them up in an effort to look larger and more menacing than it really was.

"Bekaaaaaaaa…" The cucco cawed ominously, its pitch rising the longer it crowed. Link held his breath and tried to remain still, remembering the many times long ago that he had playfully harassed the birds, which inevitably ended with him playing dead on the ground beneath his shield as the flock swarmed him. He hoped that by skipping to the final step he would be spared a repeat performance. He didn't know what he had done to set the bird off, but for some reason the cucco had apparently decided that he was trespassing on its territory.

Evidently the bird wasn't convinced with his act. Seeing no reaction from its target, it pecked at Link's chest viciously, causing him to flinch in surprise. He was sure that had it not been for the miniscule amount of protection offered by his tunic the violent little bird would have drawn blood from its strike.

"Hey!" He shifted, trying to dislodge the pesky little avian. The cucco, on the other hand, just dug into his shirt with its pointed claws, flapping its wings to keep its balance.

"Bekaaaaaaw…"

"Bekaaaaaaaa…"

"Beh—kaaaw…"

"_Beekaaaaaaaaw…_"

"Bekehkaaaaaa…"

Link froze as a rising chorus of cuccos joined in with their little friend. He glanced around, fully taking in the sight of the barn and the situation that he found himself in for the first time.

_Oh, Farore, this is not going to end well…_

Perched on top of boxes, burrowed beneath the hay, sitting on the rafters criss-crossing the ceiling, in every nook and cranny in the second story of the barn, there sat a restless cucco.

He was surrounded.

_I am going to die,_ He thought with a dreaded sense of finality, adding a mental curse that he had learned from Darunia. _I must have __**really**__ been out of it if I didn't even hear them come in._

The flock had their attention fixated solely on him, like angry ivory-feathered sentinels. He quickly stopped trying to shoo the unwelcome guest off of his torso and froze. The mass of cuccos seemed to settle down as he sunk back down into the hay, seemingly pacified. The stubborn bird on his chest, however, refused to be calmed.

"_Cakooo!_" The cucco jabbed at him again, tearing through the linen tunic, this time revealing droplets of blood bubbling up from his broken skin.

Link's anger spiked, and he cried out. "Ah! Stupid bird!" He smacked the offending cucco off of his chest and the strike sent it tumbling over the second story ledge and down to the floor of the barn.

Decades later, long, long after he had settled down and retired from adventuring, Link – Hero of Time, slayer of the Dark King Ganondorf – would still recall that exact moment as one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made in his entire life.

The blue ball of feathers flew through the air, bouncing off of a crossbeam before coming to a jarring stop on the floor below. To say that it did not look happy would be like saying Death Mountain was a little warm. It flapped its stubby wings and started screeching in panic and distress.

And rage.

"Beka! Beka! Beka! Beka! Beka!" The blue cucco hopped about madly, creating a ruckus as it called out to its feathery brethren. The other cuccos of the flock heard their comrade's call and a hundred tiny eyes latched onto the prostrate young man in the green tunic. They began to shift and ruffle their feathers angrily, and many began calling out to their feathered brethren. To Link, their chorus of cawing was like what he would imagine the trumpet call heralding the apocalypse would sound like.

Link's trembling hand slowly inched towards his discarded shield, hoping that it would at least provide some protection. "I ... I think it's about time I—"

He never got to finish the statement.

"Ca—_koooooo!_" The entire flock of cuccos burst into flight, their attention solely focused on one target: Link.

Link made a wordless cry of panic as he snatched up his shield and rolled to the side. His only aim was to get as far away from the approaching swarm of cuccos as possible. And then…

Open air.

He was falling, his roll sending him tumbling over the second story ledge of the barn. In panic he reached out his hand and grabbed for a crossbeam, slowing his fall considerably. But he was still falling too fast, and his fingers slipped from the course wood. He spun as he fell, righting himself at the last moment. The air escaped from his lungs in a muffled _oof_ when he landed hard on the floor.

_No time to rest now. Move!_

He rolled from his crouch and ran for the front door, his only chance of escape. As he ran he threw a desperate look over his shoulder. The battle cry of the angry cuccos echoed in his ears as they spilled over the ledge, looking for all the world like a great white tidal wave of feathered fury. He held his shield over his head and ran as fast as he could.

Cuccos were horrible flyers, but they could glide as well as any bird, and one of their specialties was dive-bombing their prey. They cruised low over Link's head and scraped their sharp talons across his shield and exposed arms as he zig-zagged to the exit, attempting to avoid as many birds as possible. He ducked low, feeling a cucco just barely miss his head, dodged to the left as another one came at him from the side, and jumped over a third that had over-shot him and landed on the hay-strewn floor.

_Go go go go…_

He tucked his shoulder and rammed the wooden door open with his shield, coming out in a roll. He quickly spun and threw himself against it, slamming it shut with his shield and bracing it with his weight.

THUNK! The door vibrated slightly as the first cucco crashed into it.

THUNK—_THUN—THUTHUTHUNKTHTHUTHUNK!_ The main wave of cuccos slammed into the heavy wooden door, nearly throwing Link back by their sheer numbers.

"_Beekaaaaaaaaw_…"

The cuccos began to take up their battle cry once more.

THUNK!

THUNKUNK!

Link held his shoulder tight against the door, gasping for air in shock. _I don't believe it, they're ramming the friggin door!_

He took his shield and jammed it between the door and the loamy earth, just in time to hear the wooden frame give a resounding _crack_.

_Please Din, please just let this be a bad nightmare!_ He prayed, and ran like a scalded deku scrub for the nearest building.

* * *

The rooster began to crow a candlemark before dawn, just as it had every morning for the past several years. Malon's eyes cracked open blearily, and she inhaled deeply, briefly relishing the warm sanctuary of her own bed. The goose-down comforter wrapped around her lithe, supine form like a butterfly's cocoon, and she was hesitant to leave its warm embrace. Soon though, all too soon, it was time to get up.

She slid from bed reluctantly, nearly withdrawing back into the warm covers when her slender legs encountered the cool night air. She blinked sleepily as the shadowy outlines of her room slowly swam into focus, and hesitated for a moment as she sat on the edge of her bed, but knew that the next step was unavoidable. The polished wooden floor might as well have been made of ice for all of the warmth it sucked from her bare feet. Not for the first time did she fantasize about indulging in a pair of cotton slippers.

The negligee was pulled over her head, and she shivered as the frigid air caressed her bare form. Years of practice had taught her precisely where against the wall her hamper sat in order to throw her discarded clothing.

As usual she had laid her clothes out the night before, allowing her to dress in almost total darkness. Her window blinds were cracked just enough to let a thin sliver of moonlight illuminate the floorboards, but it only served to blind her to the rest of the room. Her intimates were first, of course, followed by the linen blouse and her purple denim skirt. The clothing was comfortable and utilitarian, allowing her to work long days without worrying about ruining one of the nicer dresses her mother had left her. Those were busy being eaten by moths, anyway. It wasn't like she had regular cause to wear them.

She made the long-familiar walk down the hallway to the washroom, still half asleep.

She turned the faucet to fill the basin and gathered her hair up into a messy braid, holding it in place with an old wooden hair-pin. She dipped her fingers into the tepid water and splashed a handful across her face. It ran cool lengths down the slender curve of her throat to soak into the fabric of her cotton shift. A small terrycloth was plucked from its drying rack and folded neatly before she used it to diligently clean her teeth. If there was one thing that Ingo had taught her, it was that good hygiene was a must.

Awake now, she turned her attention to starting breakfast. The walk downstairs was quick, and she carefully considered the rather limited supplies in their pantry. Rows of jars containing everything from pickled eggs to dried spices to sweet jams stared back at her silently, but nothing piqued her interest as a suitable breakfast.

Malon had spent much of her early childhood with a hand permanently clutched to her mother's skirt. She had always enjoyed watching as her mother lovingly performed the work around the ranch that Malon was too young to help with. Cooking had been a special favorite. It had always sparked a sense of wonder in her that simple ingredients such as milk or potatoes could be mixed together to create some of the yummiest concoctions imaginable. So she had learned early, begging her mother to teach her the secrets of this wondrous new world. She was a diligent student, and soon was helping more and more around the kitchen.

After her mother's death, her father had tried to pick up some of the slack, but most of his creations could charitably be called ... disastrous. So the kitchen had become solely her domain, and she took to it with gusto. It had been difficult at first, cooking for both her and her father in addition to the half dozen or so farmhands they had working for them at the time, but soon found that practice and experience were swift teachers.

Jeriah, an older gentleman her parents had hired to help tend the goats, had used to help her out once in a while, before the farmhands started leaving. Soon though, as the Hylian economy strained under a constant state of war, one by one they left, until eventually only Ingo remained.

The unexpected thoughts of Jeriah sparked an idea, and she went to check the larder. The shelves were mostly bare, as they had been for many years now, but tucked towards the back she found the small log of goat cheese that she had made just before she left for New Ordon. The _chèvre_ was deliciously smooth, almost like butter, and would go wonderfully with the last of their bread.

Malon carefully gathered her provisions, grabbing a few slices of salted pork as well on the way out. She was just beginning to set the table for breakfast when the front door slammed open, causing her to nearly drop the ceramic plate in her hands. She turned, surprised by the new hire's sudden appearance, and called out the young man's name.

* * *

Link dashed inside and slammed the door to the house shut behind him, quickly sliding the bolt shut as he desperately tried to regain a steady heartbeat. He turned on unsteady legs and leaned his back against the door, sliding down onto the wooden floorboards. With a deep sigh he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

_I had forgotten how vicious the little devils were, _He thought with a wry grin, and gently wiped his forehead clear of perspiration, noting with amusement that his hand was shaking.

_Show me a real live fire-breathing dragon, complete with a molten lake of lava, and I'll take it down without breaking a sweat. Toss a flock of angry, psychotic cuccos at me and I'm shaking with fright. Something I'll have to leave out of the stories if I ever have kids._

"Link?"

He jumped in fright, half expecting another cucco assault. Malon laughed at his nervousness. "I'm surprised you're up this early."

Link chuckled uneasily. "Just, uh ... eager to get to work, I guess."

Malon favored him with a curious smile as she continued to set the table. "Well, breakfast is almost ready if you're hungry. I'll have it out on the table in a sec, if you would care to join me."

Link's ears perked at the thought of food, the whole cucco fiasco instantly erased from his mind. "Of course. What are we having?"

"Well, we're lucky that I still had some fresh food tucked away. I haven't had much of a chance to do any shopping lately, and ever since the cucco coup was damaged a while back the cuccos have been roaming free around the ranch. It's become nearly impossible to collect their eggs."

"You're having trouble finding the cuccos, huh?" He asked wryly. _I think I might have a clue about where to find them_…

"No, the roof of the coup collapsed when one of the trees fell on it during a storm a few months back, and Ingo … erm … hasn't had the chance to fix it yet. Here, have a seat." She gestured for him to sit and began dividing up portions of pork and bread.

Link slid out a chair and took a seat. Malon noticed the tired set of his shoulders as she sat and asked, "What happened to you? You look like you've been to the Gerudo Desert and back. Didn't get enough sleep?"

Another wry grin slipped onto Link's face. "No, I got plenty of sleep, thanks. But I woke up this morning expecting to get an early start on work and found about a hundred angry cuccos glaring at me. Nearly gave me a heart attack, the little assassins."

Malon broke out in a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny? I could've been killed! Those things are vicious!"

"They were up in the loft?" She giggled, trying but failing to keep her mirth in. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot that they like to spend the night up there sometimes. Ever since the coup was wrecked, they've roamed around the ranch, trying to find a suitable spot to sleep. I think that they decided that they liked the loft as a nesting ground, but there are too many places up there to lay eggs that we can't reach, so we try to keep them shut them out."

The both fell silent when Ingo appeared at the top of the stairs. He stomped down and disappeared into the pantry, returning with a couple of dripping pickled eggs clutched between his fingers and his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's. He grunted by way of greeting as he passed, then pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Malon watched impassively as he left. "I keep telling him to use the ladle," She said, then returned to their discussion. "But yes, that's one of their favorite spots to nap."

Link poked at the goat cheese with his knife, then followed Malon's example and began to smear it on his bread. "Thanks for the warning," He paused, brow furrowed. "But if you lock them out, then how did they get in? All of the doors were closed, so they shouldn't have been able to get inside."

"Did you leave the sky-light open? There's a narrow ledge they can reach from the top of the walls that allows them to hop inside. One time when I was calling them for their breakfast, they all came pouring out of it in one huge cloud of feathers. I hadn't laughed so hard in a long time." She giggled again, her hand going to her lips.

He thought about it for a second as he chewed on a piece of pork. Come to think of it, the skylight had been open the night before. "I didn't think that they could fly that high up."

"If there's one thing that I've learned over the years, is to never underestimate a determined cucco. The actually act more like a pack of dogs than a flock of birds. They even have a kind of 'alpha male' that leads them around everywhere. It's the first to eat, the first to bathe, but always the last to fall asleep. It's very, very protective of its flock."

"Yeah, I think I met the little devil. He was the one that started it all," Link said.

Malon tilted her head, curious. "Started what?"

Link described with great detail the events that had led to him seeking shelter in the house. Malon couldn't help but be amused as he recounted his story of woe and suffering.

"…so these things almost broke the door down, they were hammering it so hard. At that point I was about three steps beyond terrified. The only thought in my mind was to run, and fast."

Malon took a bite of her bagel before replying. "Yep, If I had to guess, the one that you smacked would defiantly be Cojiro, their leader. Most of the other cuccos are very mellow unless provoked. He's the only one that I've ever known to actually pick a fight."

Link finally took a bite the cheese smothered bread. His eyes widened with surprise. "Wow, this is great."

A light blush crept across her face. "Ah, you're just saying that."

Link shook his head and took another bite. "No, no, this is really good! The seasoning is amazing. Did you make this yourself?"

Malon beamed. "I've just slowly picked it up over the years. The trick is getting your hands on the right spices. I've heard tell that a man can live on potatoes forever as long as he's got enough rosemary." She thought for a moment, her face taking on a wistful expression, then said, "Daddy always said I make a fantastic stew. Maybe I'll get a chance to make some sometime this week."

Link's ears perked. _Hmm… speaking of which, that's a perfect opening if I ever heard one._

"Your dad? Does he work around here?"

"He's the owner of this ranch, but—" Malon glanced out the window and saw how high the sun had risen. "Crap, it's getting late. I should have gotten started on the milking by now. Didn't Ingo want to meet you out by the stables?"

"Yeah, I guess I'd better get going," Link said. They quickly finished off their meals and put their dirty dishes in the kitchen basin.

They walked out into the early morning sunlight and went their separate ways for the day. It wasn't until later that Link realized that she had managed to avoid answering the question_._

* * *

Ingo was in a sour mood when Link arrived at the horse paddock. "I was wondering when you were going to get out here," He said by way of greeting, his pinched face taking on the look of a withered deku sprout. "There's work to be done, and I can't have you lolly-gagging around, especially when your bed and supper are coming out of _my_ pocket."

Link resisted the urge to point out that his "bed" wasn't costing Ingo a single shiny rupee. He had been here for less than a day and already the lanky farmhand was starting to aggravate his nerves, but he plastered on his best abashed look. "Yes, sir. I'll try to be out here earlier tomorrow morning."

Ingo put on an equally false smile. "Good, good. That's what we need around here, more energy. I can't be expected to get everything done by myself, you know."

He pulled from his pocket a small folded square of parchment filled with uneven handwriting and scanned it quickly. "Here is a list of jobs that need to be done. Get to work on it as soon as you can, and if you see anything else that needs to be fixed, don't hesitate to add it to the list. I assume you at least know how to use a hammer." He handed the paper over to Link, who read the first few lines to himself.

_Collect animal droppings in the paddock for fertilizer shipments, muck out the outdoor stables, repair the front gate, patch the roof of the barn, rebuild the roof of the cucco coup … hmmm, that's going to be my first task. I should probably make sure the barn door is still in good condition while I'm at it … weed the herb garden, move milk crates from point A to point B. It all sounds simple enough._

"This is it?" He asked in mock astonishment.

Ingo grinned wickedly. "Oh, of course not. Your daily chores are on the back."

"Oh…" He flipped it over and was faced with an equal sized list. _Oh man..._

Ingo turned and sauntered back towards the main house. "The supplies for repairs are in the barn, and the milk crates are behind the north windmill at the very back of the ranch. Make sure that you get them to the barn by tomorrow, since Malon's going to need to take them to Kakariko. If you have any other questions, ask Malon, and she'll show you what to do." He walked off, leaving Link standing alone at the gate to the paddock.

Link sighed to himself, looking at the list once more. "Well, I knew that this wasn't going to be easy. Besides, a little manual labor won't kill me." He rubbed the back of his head and turned towards the barn, scanning the list. He needed to get that cucco coup fixed as soon as possible; if not for the birds, then for the sake of his sanity. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that those little demons were roaming the ranch grounds unimpeded.

He had almost reached the barn doors before a new thought struck him. _Those things are still locked inside…_

* * *

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	10. Chapter 9: Hymn of an Angel: Part 1

Paradise Calling

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delayed chapter. Trying not to be homeless. On with the romance!

* * *

Chapter 9: Hymn of an Angel: Part I

* * *

Old, rotten timbers groaned in protest as Link carefully descended the ancient ladder leaning against the palisade walls. The glowing ochre sun warmed his back as it made its nightly trip towards the horizon. Just as his feet touched grass, the bright orb slowly finished slipping from view behind the distant mountains, signaling the end of another long day.

Link stretched his arms over his head as he strode towards the house and tried to work out the last of the cramps brought on by another hard day's work._ You'd think I'd be used to this by now…_ He thought to himself with a chuckle.

It had been almost three weeks since he had first arrived at the ranch. In that time he had already repaired several loose doors in the barn, replaced three broken windows, torn apart and fixed a leaky drainage pipe, cut up and removed a storm-damaged tree, and essentially rebuilt an entire cucco coup. This was all in between occasionally escorting Malon to nearby villages for supplies and deliveries.

The work was exhausting, but not overwhelming, and he found that after several weeks of constant aches his body was starting to adapt to the new stresses being thrust upon it. He was surprised at first to learn that ranch work required a different set of muscles than sword fighting, especially with all of the heavy lifting he was required to perform. The ever-present burning in his legs and lower core was a testament to that.

The last several days had been especially grueling. After replacing the last of the broken windows on the house a couple of days ago he had fallen through a rotten section of the palisade wall, giving Malon a fright. After they managed to extricate him from the rotting timbers and patch him up they made an inspection of the rest of the outer wall and came to the conclusion – much to Malon's steadily increasing dismay – that if something wasn't done there wasn't going to be much of a wall left in a year's time. The old fort was ancient in her father's time, and maintenance was a steady, constant battle of attrition.

So Link now found himself in the process of cutting away the areas of the inner palisade wall and walkway that were crumbling with age or had been infested with insects and replacing them with newer, stronger hardwood boards. Ingo had complained, loudly, of the extra expenses at first, but after Link had pointed out that the walls were probably the only thing keeping the bandits out (and some creative negotiating for the lumber on Malon's part) he had agreed to pry his fingers away from the ranch's meager coffers to pay for the repairs.

Link turned to inspect his accomplishments for the day and slowly twisted his torso, stopping when he felt his spine give a solid _pop._

_Nothing like a good day's work,_ he thought as he studied his work._ Slaying monsters and clearing temples is all well and good, but sometimes it's more satisfying to create than to destroy._

He tucked his hands behind his head and savored the tight ache in his shoulders as a stray thought struck him. _I wonder if I could become a rancher after I'm done with this insane little quest._ He smiled, daydreaming. _I could buy some horses from Malon, breed my own mares, maybe some goats and some cuccos_... He winced. _Ok, not the cuccos. _He sighed as reality slowly replaced fantasy. _One day before another, I suppose…_

He turned and began to walk at a leisurely pace towards the farmhouse, eager to see if Malon had started on dinner yet. He whistled to himself as he followed the fenced-in pasture and tried to ignore his growing frustration.

Navi hadn't returned from her errand yet. She had told him that there was an outside possibility that it might be three weeks before she returned, but he had never really considered that it might take that long. At the very least he had hoped that Sheik himself might show up while Navi was out looking for him and Link could have a good laugh at everyone's expense. So far though, there had been no word from either of them, so he continued to work and wait.

He was halfway to the farmhouse when a piercing cry caused his ears to perk. He stopped, listening intently. For a while the noise didn't repeat, the only things reaching his ears being the faint chirrup of crickets in the coming twilight.

There it was again. The high pitched whinny of a horse in distress – one of the younger colts from the sound of it – was carried on the wind, coming from the direction of the central corrals. He started towards the large enclosed field that dominated the center of the ranch, drawn by the shrill cries.

He stopped at the entrance to the corrals, his eyes quickly scanning the open field and the half dozen horses scattered about before finally coming to rest of the two figures standing off to the side. He recognized the horse as Arion, a troublesome young colt that Malon had acquired recently that had been abused by its previous owner and had thus developed an intense dislike for people.

Malon stood firm as she spoke quiet, calming words to the troubled colt. She stood at an angle to Link, and hadn't seen him enter the corral. Her russet mane of hair spread around her head like a halo, silhouetting her face in a red-gold blaze while the hem of her skirt swayed lightly in the breeze.

The colt's forward left leg was pulled up and tied with a braided hobble, rendering it nearly immobile by virtue of the fact that any attempt at walking would require it to hop on its front leg and would quickly tire it out. Malon stood patiently at its side as it slowly worked this out for itself, leaning against the colt's shoulder to support its weight as she rubbed a hand along its long neck and cooed soothing words. It tried a few futile kicks with its hind legs, but soon realized that it was only tiring itself out faster.

Soon the colt learned that it wasn't going anywhere in its current state, and allowed itself to lean its weight against Malon. She in turn proceeded with the next step in her plan, and began pressing downward on the horse's neck. The colt panicked at first, but Malon had her hands gripped firmly in the colt's mane as it tried to stay upright, and slowly, ever so slowly, the colt allowed itself to be lowered to the ground on its side. Malon folded her legs beneath herself as she sat, allowing the colt's head to rest on her lap.

"Shh, good boy, Arion, good boy..."

Malon continued whispering soothing, meaningless sounds as the horse settled, then hummed the first few bars to her favorite song. As the horse's breathing began to slow, she paused and took a deep breath, then began to sing the song her mother had taught her long ago.

"_Epona, Epona, soba ni oide_

_Futari de ireba, sabishiku nan ka nai_

_Dakara, Epona, koko ni ite_

_Omae dake o mamotte ageru…_"

Link smiled and leaned against the fence as memories surfaced of the first time he had heard her sing. He gently hummed the tune as Malon sang, creating a quiet harmony with the music.

"_Koushite iru to omoi dasu_

_Ano hi no yoake_

_Tsuki ga shizumi, taiyou to_

_Omae ga umareta_

_Epona, Epona, soba ni oide_

_Futari de ireba, kanashiku nan ka nai_

_Dakara, Epona, koko ni ite_

_Watashi no uta o kiite ite ne_

_Koushite iru to omoi dasu_

_Ano koro no koto_

_Omae no tame ni kaazan ga_

_Tsukutta kono uta_

_Hmm... Hmm..._

_Futari de ireba, kanashiku nan ka nai_

_Hmm... Hmm..._

_Wasurenai demo kono uta_

_Kono uta…_"

The final notes faded as Malon finished her song. She leaned down and murmured something in the horse's ear, though Link was too far away to make it out.

Link smiled at the picturesque view. He hadn't heard Malon sing since before he had entered the Temple of Time, and he had quietly wondered if that part of her had been lost when she became the strong, troubled young woman she was today. He was glad to see that not everything had changed in the last seven years.

Even so, he felt as if he might be intruding upon a private moment. He pushed off of the fence, prepared to sneak quietly back out of the front gate, but the old wood creaked loudly as his weight shifted.

Malon's head shot up at the sound, startled. "Who … L—Link? Is that you?"

He tensed, cursing his luck. Slowly, his feet seemingly unwilling to cooperate, he strode around the fence and approached her where she sat. He came to a stop a short, respectful distance away, thumbs tucked into his belt. "Yeah, it's me."

She put a hand to her breast, relieved. "Oh, good. I thought that it might be…" Her face suddenly flushing scarlet as realization struck her. "Were you listening to me?" she asked.

Link smiled at the shock in her voice and shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but I heard the horse and came to investigate. The song was beautiful."

Her blush deepened at the compliment, her cheeks turning nearly the same shade of crimson as her hair. "I … Th—thank you. My mother taught it to me long ago…" She turned away from him, turning her eyes back towards the cloudless sky as she continued to soothingly stroke the colt's long neck.

After several long moments, she patted the ground beside her. "Why don't you come join me?"

Link blinked in surprise, then hurried forward. Malon held out a hand, though the tone of her voice never changed from a quiet calm. "Slowly. He startles easily," she said as she continued giving the colt's neck long, slow strokes. "Arion hasn't been the easiest horse to get along with." A dark look crossed her face, but quickly passed. "I can't really blame him, after what his previous owner put him through. Poor fella doesn't trust anyone at this point."

"He seems to trust you," Link said as he sat down next to her. The horse shifted as it sensed a potential new threat, but quickly settled down again.

Malon shook her head with a sad smile. "I wish he did. I'm just more stubborn than he is." She gestured towards the hobble. "My parents developed this technique. Horses are prey animals, so they frighten easily and Arion's more skittish than most. I'm sure you've seen how hard it's been just to get him into the barn at night."

Some people will beat their horses until they behave, but a broken horse is just that; broken. It will never have the same spirit or the drive that a healthy, happy horse will. So my parents learned a different tactic. Instead of beating them, we earn their trust."

"How does tying them up earn their trust?" Link asked.

Malon shrugged. "Seems a little counter-intuitive, doesn't it? But it works. I've seen too many feral horses become docile to believe otherwise. We show them that even when they're immobile and helpless that they can depend on us not to hurt them, to take care of them. Even though we could easily hurt them, we protect them. Horses aren't dumb animals. They think, and they learn quickly. It just takes a little patience."

"Sort of like people, then," Link said.

Malon nodded, and appeared to be about to say something, but then stopped when a distressed look crossed her face. She turned away and continued to watch the sky as the last vestiges of twilight began to fade.

They sat in silence for several long moments, neither of them able to find any words. Link shifted uncomfortably and swallowed nervously. He could sense that something was troubling her, but had never been very good at alleviating these sorts of situations. He had heard the expression that you could cut the tension in the air with a knife, but he had never actually experienced it before.

His gaze followed hers up towards the first of the shimmering stars starting to appear at the darkest corner of the sky. His thoughts turned to his old childhood friend, Saria, now the newly awakened Sage of the Forest. It was she who had taught him all of the constellations on one of their many overnight campouts in the Sacred Meadow. He remembered the fervent passion in her voice as she told him about the different star clusters, and about the legends that went along with them. He memorized as many as he could, knowing that he would one day pass down the same experience to someone else.

A new thought struck him, _Today's as good as any I suppose. _He squinted, picking out an old, familiar set of stars that was beginning to peek through the twilight. "You see that group of stars up there?" He pointed at a large constellation.

Malon smiled. "You mean the ones that look like the Triforce?" She asked, studying the stars overhead.

Link shook his head. "No, that's too easy. It's just to the left of that," He shifted his position until he was sitting just behind Malon. Her heart fluttered when she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. He gently took her wrist and directed her finger towards the heavens, tracing out the pattern. "Right … there."

She swallowed nervously and focused her concentration on the stars. "It ... kind of looks like a person."

He smiled, pleased. "That's Farore's Daughter," he told her, lowering her hand. "When I was younger, my … well, my friend used to tell me all about the different myths behind all of the constellations."

Malon sighed and closed her eyes as she continued stroking Arion's neck, basking in the warmth radiating from Link's body in the coming night. She found that she enjoyed his company, and even though she had only met him a couple of weeks ago, she felt … _safe_ around him. Safer than she did around Ingo at any rate. It was a feeling that she had desperately missed during the past seven years. "Would you … tell me the story? Please?"

"I suppose," he said with a soft chuckle. "If you want me to that is. I'm not as good of a storyteller as my friend, but I'll try." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drawing the legend from his memories.

Malon leaned back against him and studied his face as he concentrated, feeling his arms reflexively slip into a comfortable position around her waist. The way that his sandy bangs were swept away from his eyes gave him a somewhat roguish appearance, and the soft curve of his lips… _What am I thinking?_ Malon mentally chided herself, quickly averting her eyes as she felt her cheeks warm. _Bad thoughts, Malon. Bad thoughts._

Link started the legend slowly, not noticing the deepening blush creeping across his companion's face.

"Long ago," He opened his eyes, looking up at the sky. "Immediately following the birth of Hyrule, it is said that the three Golden Goddesses, being pleased with Their work, returned to the Sacred Realm to watch over Their creation. Din continued to replenish the Earth, maintaining the fertile lands and rivers and oceans. Nayru had blessed the world with Her laws and a concept of balance and insured that it held true, while Farore kept vigil over all of Her mortal creations.

However, because of their gift of life, the various races had also acquired minds of their own. They developed their own customs and opinions, which would often clash with one another and sometimes stray from the Goddesses' will. Eventually, they learned to make war on one another, and in doing so defied the sacred laws that the Goddesses has laid down. Though all three of the sisters were distressed by this, Farore most of all was saddened by their rebellion and became deeply troubled when Her creations showed a willingness, even an eagerness, to destroy that which She had worked so hard to create.

Lonely for a different companionship than that of Her Goddess sisters, and ashamed by what she saw as her mistakes in the mortal realms, Farore used Her rich life energy to create another being; Her very own daughter. The maiden was said to be everything that was beauty and grace, and was Farore's most beloved treasure. Her name was Allaya."

Link paused, allowing Malon time to process the story while he recalled the rest.

Malon smiled and snuggled closer, all earlier embarrassment forgotten. "I haven't heard this legend before. That's a beautiful name."

Link decided to continue. "It was indeed."

In an effort to redeem the creatures of Hyrule, Farore sent her daughter down to the mortal realms so that she might serve as an example. She was to be a gift of purity and virtue to all life, a beacon of light in the darkness. Those that fell from the path that Farore and the other Goddesses had laid down needed only look to Allaya to be shown the true way."

They say that when she walked through the forest, the wolves would shadow her and protect her from harm. When she stopped by the river to rest, the plants would cup their leaves in the current and offer her a drink. When she sang, the birds would fall silent in respect."

This was before the time of Hylia, so the world had yet to experience such righteousness. She was a true blessing given out of love to our world. But like many of the things the Goddesses gave the mortal realm, Allaya was taken for granted."

He could feel Malon slowly shaking her head. "That's so sad."

Link pressed on, "Being so sweet and generous, she was unprepared for the harshness of life in our world. In her naïveté, she felt that she could do the most good by shining a light on the darkest corners of society. So she made for the largest city in the land, a neutral trading port which sat at the crossroads of the four major races. It was originally supposed to be a city of peace where all races could commingle, but there was constant bickering and bigotry amongst its inhabitants. Crime and corruption were such a common occurrence that they were seen simply as just another facet of life in the city. But there was good in the city as well, and so Allaya meant to nurture it where she could."

The first person she met on the outskirts was an old jongleur whose body had curled and swollen with arthritis. Allaya took pity on the poor man, who could no longer make a living and was reduced to begging on the streets. Unfortunately she had no coin to give, so she took his hands in hers and channeled the rich life energy of her Mother into the poor jester. In a matter of seconds he was cured of his ailments, leaving him with a body that seemed twenty years younger. The man was ecstatic, and thanked her profusely before he rushed off to tell everyone he could about this new visitor to the city."

The second person she met was a young Zora girl who was suffering from scalerot. Again Allaya placed her hands upon the girl, and again the girl was cured. Soon, as Allaya made her way through the city, a crowd of people gathered around her, who spread the word that a miracle worker had come to heal them of their afflictions."

Many people had no ailments, but Allaya was not merely a healer. A shopkeeper needed help loading crates into a wagon. A young girl had lost her favorite scarf. A Goron merely needed directions to the nearest inn. All of these people she helped, and more, because it was in her nature to do so. In helping those in need, and not caring about creed or race or allegiance, she acted as an example to everyone who followed her, and acts of kindness began to multiply outward around her into the city, like ripples in a pond."

Davyn was a good man, but he was a coward at heart. He did his best to live a righteous life, but if he was threatened he would always give in. All throughout his childhood he had been the target of bullies, and adulthood was no different for the poor man. He had a soft heart, and always tried to help those around him in need, but was frequently taken advantage of and lived a poor, simple life."

When Allaya came upon him, she smiled fondly, as if she had been reunited with a distant cousin, but said sadly that she did not yet have anything to give him. The crowd was surprised, because she had managed to help everyone she had come across thus far, but Davyn replied that the only gift he would like would be to help and accompany her as she made her way through the city, and so they set off for the heart of town. Davyn proved to be a fine assistant, never shirking from the physical labors given to him, and yet his manner always remained that of a skittish rabbit, fearful of those around him."

The Dark Man – he has no other name – was the lord of the local criminal underclass, the self-proclaimed king of the city. Whenever someone needed something in his city, he always had a hand in procuring it for them – for a price, of course. His spies were threaded throughout the city like a spider's web, and soon word reached his ears that a miracle worker was distributing gifts to any who asked. Needless to say, he did not take kindly to people handing out favors in his city without paying his exorbitant taxes, especially when he had yet to receive any himself."

At first the Dark Man had his lieutenants approach Allaya, but at this point the townsfolk were protective of their benefactor, and knew all of the Dark Man's agents by sight. None could get close enough to talk to her. So eventually the Dark Man himself came out to meet her, because even the bravest guard coward in fear in his presence. Wherever the Dark Man went, death was sure to follow shortly after. No one dared stand against him for fear of what he might do to them or their families."

There are several conflicting versions of the legend at this point, but all agree that he lured her to an alley with the promise that she would be able to help someone truly in need of her services. Davyn knew that the Dark Man couldn't be trusted, but was paralyzed by fear of what would happen if he followed. Allaya promised that she would return soon, and entered the alley alone."

Once the Dark Man had her alone, he demanded that Allaya give him the same powers that she had, but Allaya could see that to do so would be to bring ruin upon the land, and so refused him. He argued with her, offering her sweet lies and false promises that a strong, dominant hand would be able to unite the splintered factions of the city once and for all, but Allaya knew that those factions at odds with each other were in fact instrumental to the Dark Man's criminal empire and he would do no such thing. The Dark Man quickly lost his temper. No one refused him and lived to tell about it, certainly not some mystical healer."

The end came quickly for her. For though Allaya had a divine soul, her body was only mortal."

Farore eventually found her daughter lying in the alley, with Davyn weeping over her body as her lifeblood poured from her wounds. Farore was furious, and was prepared to blame Davyn for Her daughter's murder, but Allaya managed to shield him from her Mother's wrath. Davyn wept and begged Farore to not let Allaya die, pleaded with her for just one more day, one more minute, if not for him then for the rest of the city. He asked Her how they could be expected to go on after something so pure had touched their lives, and been so violently taken from them."

But Farore was overcome with grief, and felt that if the world would not cherish Her blessings, then it was possible that we did not deserve them. If Farore were to heal Her daughter, Allaya would only meet a similar fate somewhere down the line, because evil men were allowed to walk freely in the light. And Farore would not subject Her own daughter to such a cruel fate."

Allaya, just before she died, with the last of her strength pulled herself up and placed a soft kiss upon Davyn's cheek. Allaya's last gift was the gift of Courage to a poor man who had had none."

Anguished by Her daughter's defilement, Farore carried Allaya to the heavens and placed her among the stars so that she might never be harmed again, with the promise that she would return if we were ever judged worthy. She remains there to this day as a reminder of the perfect gift that we lost …" Link slowly trailed off, finished with his tale.

"I can see her now." Malon whispered, staring up at the Goddess' starry child. Her attitude turned somber. "Such a sad story."

"They're not all like that," he assured her. "A few of them are pretty exciting, even funny. But I'm not the expert that my friend was. I can't do them all justice, not the way she could." He said, looking up at the stars again with a fond look in his eyes. "But I remember this one, because the moral of the story is so clear."

"Don't go into dark alleys with strange men?" Malon said.

"Well … possibly, but that's not the lesson I took away from it," Link shook his head. "This world … in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't care, one way or the other, how we live or die. Some things out there, some people even, are born without a conscience, and so long as they get what they want they don't care what they destroy in the process. So if we want to be happy, we must stand up to protect the things that we love from those who would take what isn't theirs."

Silence reigned for several moments as Malon nodded. "What happened to Davyn and the Dark Man?"

"It's said that when Davyn returned to the central square and told the people there what had happened, the entire city rioted. The Dark Man's spies and lieutenants were ousted, and Davyn himself led the charge on the Dark Man's stronghold."

"Even when it wouldn't bring back what they had lost?"

Link thought carefully. "Sometimes … sometimes, taking a stand even when all you know is lost, can be just as important as if your goal were still within reach. I think that's what courage – true courage – is all about. We have the power within ourselves to make the world a better place. We just have to be brave enough to try. I learned that from my friend too."

"Hmm..." She hummed thoughtfully as she gave Arion another rub. "Do you miss your friend?"

He smiled, thinking of Saria. "Yeah, I miss her a lot. We spent most of our childhood together."

She turned in his arms, looking up into his cobalt-blue eyes. "I'm sorry. It must be hard for you, being so far away from home."

Link felt an involuntary sigh escaped his lips. "Sometimes … I wonder if they even remember me."

"I'm sorry." She apologized again, her eyes downcast.

He smiled, and reached up with a gloved hand to tilt her chin so that her eyes met his. "Don't be. It was my choice to leave. Besides," He said as he stared into her bright azure eyes, smiling a infectious grin. "I'm making some new friends here."

Malon's breath caught in her throat and she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, as if she had taken an unwitting step over a deep gorge. She gazed back into his eyes, her pulse pounding in her ears as she mentally commanding herself to breathe. Slowly, gently, as though her body had a mind of its own, she reached up and tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind his pointed ear and let her hand drop to his shoulder. Her fingers clenched in the fabric of his green tunic. She wet her lips...

_...green tunic..._

... And with that seemingly random, stray thought the roaring in her ears was suddenly silenced. She quickly drew back, the magic of the moment lost.

Link blinked, astonished at her abrupt withdrawal. "What's wrong?"

Malon chewed her lower lip, then shook her head and turned away. "There's nothing wrong," She said, but felt that she owed him more. "It's just..."

Link watched her patiently for several heartbeats, but she didn't elaborate. "Just … what?" he prompted.

Malon continued to nibble thoughtfully on her lip, then shook her head once more. "Never mind … it's … impossible."

"Hmm," Link said, clearly disappointed with the abruptness of her defense, but he carefully kept his face a neutral mask. He gently disentangled himself from around her and stood up slowly so as not to spook the colt.

Malon's breath seized as he turned and walked away, panic and confusion shooting through her heart at the sudden jumble of emotions inside her. She didn't want him to go. Had she driven him away?

"I think you'd be surprised," Link called back absently as he walked back towards the entrance to the corrals.

Malon swallowed nervously, confused. "At what?"

Link turned to look her straight in her eyes. "At what's possible."

He slipped out of the horse paddock before she had a chance to respond.

* * *

Uh-oh.

Full chapter notes in my profile.

Ciao!  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	11. Chapter 10: Hymn of an Angel: Part 2

_Paradise Calling_

Author's Notes:

Behold the creamy filling! Plot later, fluff _nao._ You like fluff, right? Of course you do, everyone loves fluff.

* * *

Chapter 10: Hymn of an Angel: Part II

* * *

_Surreal lights sparkled and danced eerily into the night sky, as if the very stars had taken flight. The sky itself was aglow with shimmering shades of pastel orange and yellow and red, creating the second twilight of the day._

_Her ears perked at the strange sounds filling the night, like a thousand soldiers marching across a field of fallen leaves. The impossibly loud crackling sound was accompanied by the sounds of panicked, desperate people. Malon could hear her father and several of the hired hands yelling at the top of their lungs while the whinnies of frightened horses could be heard from the direction of the barn. She hugged her favorite stuffed animal tightly to her chest – a cream colored horse with only a single lonely button for an eye, the other having been lost long ago – and let the house door close quietly behind her before making her way towards the commotion._

_Great white flakes were falling across the ranch in the surreal twilight, coating the grass and trees and buildings in a wonderful ivory powder. Malon giggled, delighted to see snowfall so early in the year. It was only mid-summer, but if snow was falling this early, then that would mean that she would probably get to play in lots and lots of it when it actually got cold._

_It was odd though; she had never known snow to fall so early in the year. She felt a tickle of confusion, but was too enraptured with the magic in the night air to care. She danced in circles, arms spread and face pointed to the stars as she twirled with her stuffed horse tucked into the crook of her elbow. Her father had said that snow only fell during the winter, when it got really really cold. So of course this snow must be something special, because her father was the smartest man in the whole wide world in __**forever**__, and there was no way that he could be wrong._

_She soon tired of spinning and began trying to catch a snowflake on her tongue. It was as hard as she remembered from last winter. The snow seemed to guess where Malon's open mouth was waiting for it, and danced and spun through the air to avoid her. She got several thick flakes on her cheeks, but after concentrating really hard she finally caught a flake on her tongue, and quickly clamped her mouth shut to capture her prize._

_Blegh. This snow tasted ucky, and was warm and bitter. In fact, it didn't taste like snow at all. Instead of the expected biting sting of ice followed quickly by a cool trickle of water, her mouth tasted as if she had been licking a dusty floor. She tried that once and didn't like it at all._

_The piercing cry of her mother shouting orders echoed across the ground, causing her to spin in fright, but it wasn't her that her mother was angry with, so that was good. She was curious though. Mommy almost never got angry. The last time she had seen her mother angry had been when a Bad Man came to the ranch, and her mother had thrown him over the wall. Malon rushed through the gates and towards the corrals, eager to see who was going to be punished now._

_That was when she saw that the barn was on fire._

_The barn – no … __**her**__ barn, her favorite place in the whole world – was on fire, ablaze with a hauntingly beautiful, destructive light. Shock and curiosity mixed within her._

_**Wow…**_

_She had never seen anything so wondrous. Malon dropped her stuffed horse and ran across the dew-dappled lawn towards the glow, amazed at how warm the brilliant light was even at this distance._

_**It's so pretty,**__ she thought as she held out a hand towards the yellow and red embers, trying to catch the dancing light in her palm. A small, steaming clump of grass near where she was standing had ignited, spreading the raging inferno and leaving dark ashes in its wake. She reached for the glow, but recoiled quickly and gave a small cry as the heat became unbearable to her small fingers._

"_Malon, stay back sweetie!"_

_She felt the air in her lungs leave her as strong, slender arms scooped her up around her waist, lifting her away from the dangerous blaze. She felt confused at first at the reprimand. Her parents had always indulged their daughter's curiosity, and the only time she was told to stay away from something was if it was dangerous. Why would her barn be dangerous?_

"_Mommy, what's going on? Why's there fire?" She asked, pointing in the direction of the barn with her stubby fingers._

_As soon as they were a safe distance away, her mother put her down and knelt in front of her, taking her daughter's small face into her hands. "Malon, love, I need you to listen to me," her mother explained quickly, "The barn is on fire, and some of the horses are still stuck inside. I need to go help them and get them out."_

_Malon tried to focus on her mother's face, but the inferno behind her had hidden her features beneath shifting shadows. The flames leapt into the sky behind her, accenting her deep crimson tresses with shades of golden light. So pretty, just like an angel..._

"_Fire?" She asked, confused. Daddy said that fire was only supposed to be in the hearth or the stove. More importantly, the horses were strong. She had been taught from a young age that the horses were strong, much stronger than her, stronger than anyone, even her father. What could possibly hurt a horse? Her gaze darted back towards the inferno framing her mother, fear and realization freezing her eyes wide. This was a very, very __Bad Thing__._

"_Whatever you do," her mother continued urgently, "Do not follow me, do you understand, love?" She asked breathlessly. When Malon didn't answer right away she asked again, her tone rising. "Do you understand me young lady?"_

"_Y-yes, Mummy," Malon replied, fighting back tears. Hurt and confusion smothered her earlier curiosity like a wet blanket. Mommy __**never**__ raised her voice to her like that._

_Sensing her mother's anxiety, she leapt into her mother's arms, pulling her into a fierce hug. Her mother rocked her back and forth, cooing sweet reassurances. The shadows parted for a moment, and Malon saw a tear slide down her mother's chin before silently dropping onto her proffered cheek. Her own tears soon followed, and her mother placed a comforting hand on her head, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll be right back love, I promise. You've got to be a big girl for your mother. I'll be right back." Her mother's warm arms loosened, and she placed a comforting kiss on her forehead. "Be brave, Malon."_

_The cries of the frightened horses still trapped inside of the barn broke them from their hug, and Malon's mother ran for the barn, never looking back at her crying daughter. She dashed towards the doors, ignoring the tongues of flame that licked at her legs as she leapt through, ignoring the cries of protest from the farmhands and her beloved husband, and disappeared through the flaming portal._

"_Mommy?" Malon called out, confused and scared. Why did she run into the burning barn like that? Hadn't Mommy just told her to stay away from it? What was going on? Wasn't the barn dangerous? Why would Mommy run into the barn if it was dangerous?_

_She could hear her mother inside of the barn yelling at the horses in the foreign tongue that her mother used whenever she was particularly angry. Suddenly, three horses shot through the burning doors in a desperate bid for freedom. The farmhands nearly dropped their buckets of water as they dodged out the way of the powerful beasts, more focused on containing the fire than trying to corral them. A fourth horse, a small new-born foal, followed her brethren as it darted from the barn in a panic, its soft brown coat and white mane singed and smoking._

_It escaped just in time before a small chunk of the crumbling roof crashed to the ground right in front of the flaming door, blocking any hope of escape for those still trapped inside._

_Malon stumbled forward in shock. "Mommy, come back! Come— Aaah!" She screamed at the sight, her words cut off as the first part of the barn began its inevitable fall._

_The sound of crumbling timbers was deafening as the roof collapsed, the flames having already eaten through the broad support pillars. Embers raced into the sky by the scores of thousands, looking like the bright pyreflies that would occasionally grace Lake Hylia's shores with their eerie glow. The cries of the dozen people futilely trying to douse the fire could be heard over the carnage as the entire building collapsed, the weakened walls buckling under the immense weight, sending great plumes of sparks and embers into the sky._

"_Mommy? Mommy?" Her mother's last words to her echoed in her ears, __**'Be brave, Malon…'**__ Tears streaked down her ash-stained cheeks. __**I'm a big girl, I've got to be brave for Mommy…**__ "Mo— Mother?" She cried, racing towards the flaming wreckage, only to be caught up in Talon's arms. She screamed and kicked at her father, trying but unable to break his powerful grip. He hugged her desperately as she fought him, refusing to let her go._

_Malon gave one final kick against his desperate grip. Why was he stopping her? She had to save her mother! "Let me go! Mother, come back! Mother!"_

"_Mother!"_

* * *

"_Mother!_"

Malon screamed as she jolted upright from her bed, her hands reaching into the darkness as if to clench her fingers around the last, lingering wisps of her dream.

She slumped forward as the sudden tension drained from her body, gasping for air. Perspiration soaked her camisole, causing it to cling to the curves of her body as she threw back the covers and shakily swung her long legs out over the floor.

_It was … only a dream. But I haven't had that dream in so long. And it was so much more … __**vivid **__… this time. So real..._

She cupped her face in her hands as her body began to shake from the adrenalin draining from her system. Why again? Why tonight? She could remember a time when she had relived that dream every night for months on end. Eventually it had faded, but it came back to her occasionally, first when Castle Town had been burned to the ground, then when her father fell sick and she feared of losing him as well.

Over time though she found that the dream was slowly fading. Pieces would become fuzzy and indistinct, or even missing completely. She couldn't remember a time in the last seven years that it had been so fresh, so visceral. The only thing that had been different was...

She blinked in shock. Why couldn't she remember her mother's face?

Malon shot to her feet in a panic and rushed across the room to the nightstand. _No, no, nonono..._

She knelt in front of her nightstand and threw open the lower drawer. Blindly she dug through her clothes in the dark, searching by memory for what she knew lay beneath her folded skirts: A rare pictograph of her mother when she was pregnant with Malon, something that her father had sprung for when they had had the money for such frivolous things. Ingo had thrown it across the kitchen in one of his drunken rages, and so its place of honor was no longer on the table in the evening room but hidden beneath her work clothes in a dusty old nightstand, neglected if not forgotten.

She knew she would not find what she desired. Years of sitting on the table in direct sunlight had faded parts of the pictograph to near-transparency. Enough remained though to give her hope. Her fingers closed around the frame and she ripped it from the drawer, carelessly spilling her clothes out onto the floor in her haste. She turned and rushed for the window, thrusting the pictograph into the pane of pale moonlight and squinted against the glare through the cracked glass.

Nothing, just as she already knew. The pictograph was of her mother in profile, sitting on the pane of this very window when this room was being prepared as a nursery, staring out into the ranch, her arms wrapped protectively, lovingly around the swollen bulge of her pregnant belly. Sadly, time and sunlight had eaten away at the top of the pictograph until there was almost nothing left above her mother's shoulders. If she looked closely and tilted it at just the right angle, Malon thought that she could just barely make out the strong curve of her jaw, the curled, deep crimson coif of her hair, but no matter how hard she looked she could not find her mother's face in those blank spaces.

She sat back and slumped in defeat into the writing desk's chair, the pictograph clattering to the table as she felt the burning sting of tears swell in her eyes. It had been over ten years since her mother had been taken from her, and yet she felt as if that wound were ready to reopen at any second.

It wasn't fair. But then, how much of her life over the years had ever been based on fairness?

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, watching as the moonlight slowly crawled across the desk, but after a while she found that she no longer wished to sleep. She cupped her chin in her hands and stared through the dirty windowpane, watching the grass in the field slowly sway in the night wind. She looked up at the waxing moon, its bright luminescence bathing everything in soft, ethereal light, then shivered against the cool night air.

_I wonder how late it is?_ She thought hazily, realizing that while her camisole was now cool and damp from her sweat, her mouth was as dry as the hottest desert.

_Maybe a glass of water will help to calm my nerves…_

Groggily, she stood and threw on a long cotton nightgown, then inhaled deeply, steadying her breathing before she unlocked and opened the door to her room. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she made her way down the shadowy hallway to the bathroom. The light from the moon shone through the window at the far end of the hall, which was filtered through an old dead tree just outside the ranch walls, and illuminated a small square patch of bare floorboards, revealing in stark relief the disturbingly claw-like characteristics of the bare limbs.

The rest of the hall was as dark as pitch; it looked as if someone had thrown a bucket of inky black paint that had seeped into every nook and cranny. Her careful footsteps caused the ancient wooden floorboards to groan, and the shadows of the monstrous tree danced in the evening breeze with a low, almost otherworldly sound that faintly reminding her of a rhyme that she had heard long ago:

_Last night I saw upon the stair,  
A little man who wasn't there,  
I didn't see him again today,  
Oh, how I wish he'd go away._

She made her way to the bathroom without incident and reached for the sink, turning the intricately carved handle towards her. Another of her parents renovations, back when the ranch was more successful. Cool, crisp water flowed into the basin. She cupped her hands under the flow of water and brought it to her face, letting the chill of the water calm her jittery nerves. She cupped her hands again, refilling her impromptu cup before bringing her hands to her mouth for a drink.

She turned off the running water and was drying her hands and face on a handtowel when her ears perked. She turned towards the window as the breeze shifted, buffeting the house and quieting the noise.

There it was again. Sweet, melodious music, coming from outside of the bathroom window. _What on earth?_ She carefully stepped up onto the rim of the tub and cracked open the window, listening intently as the soothing music became louder, more crisp. She breathed in sharply, recognizing the tune.

_That's __**my**__ song!_

She closed the window and barely managed to keep herself from running down the hall. The floorboards creaked loudly as she walked, and she winced when she heard sounds and muttered curses coming from Ingo's room.

_Oh please, no, not right now..._

She had almost managed to make it past when the door cracked open. The smell of long stagnant dust, moldy cheese, and cheap ale drifted from the room, and her breathing became shallow as she turned. His sunken eyes stared back at her from the gloom, shining like glass beads in the dark.

"What're you doing up this early?" he asked suspiciously. "Thinkin' of sneaking out? Gonna go pay the stablehand a midnight visit?"

Subconsciously, she crossed her arms across her chest. In reality, it didn't make a difference, since her simple cotton gown wasn't the least bit revealing. But ever since that night he had cornered her in the barn she had felt increasingly defensive around him.

"N-no, I just needed a glass of water," she said, carefully avoiding the fact that she was no longer just returning to her room.

He seemed to think this over for a moment before giving an irritable, drunken huff. "Well, quit making all that racket, bitch, or else I'll throw you outside." He slammed the door shut before she could reply.

Malon gently laid her head against the wall as the full absurdity of his threat washed over her, then continued on. Before she knew it she was outside, her sandals slapping against the soles of her feet as she ran swiftly over the dew covered grass and though the gate. A light fog had sprung up, swirling around her skirt as she went.

_Where is it coming from? _She paused, listening. Her head turned, her ears perking as she followed the music. _Behind t__he barn!_ She slowed and quietly she made her way forward, her nightmare inching back from the darkest corners of her mind.

It wasn't the same building where her mother had died. It wasn't even in the same place, the original's footprint having occupied the northern border of the ranch where now only scorched rock and a fallow field mark its passing. The barn they were using now was originally the old barracks, converted to storage and sleeping quarters when her parents had first acquired the ranch. Even so, her fond memories of the new would forever be linked with the nightmares of the old. Although the old barn had burnt to the ground, in a way, in her mind at least, the spirit of what it was lived on in its current incarnation.

The barn, for her, was a place of memories, both pleasant and painful.

The barn, where she had spent most of her childhood helping her parents care for the animals and playing with the customer's children. It was also the place where she had last held her mother, begging her not to go.

Where she had spent many of her happiest carefree days learning how to ride and care for her beloved horses.

Where she had stood in silent horror as she watched her mother die.

But now, sweet music filled the air, drawing her back to this place that was full of such conflicting memories. The tone was beautiful, and she felt the faint stirrings of familiarity suggesting that she had heard this particular music before. But the thought merely brushed against her like a passing wraith, unable to find purchase in her memories.

The crackling of the grass underfoot was the only other sound that she could hear as she made her way along the outer wall. Even the nocturnal insects were unusually silent, their lack of chirruping adding to the dream-like quality of the night. As she approached, the music paused in mid-tune, a surreal silence permeating the crisp night air. She quickly ducked back behind the corner of the barn, praying that whatever had been playing the music had not heard her.

* * *

Link couldn't sleep. As he tossed and turned in the hayloft, his mind kept wandering back to earlier in the evening when he had joined Malon in the horse paddock. He hadn't been conscious of the implications at first, but he had slowly realized that sitting behind her had been a rather intimate move on his part, and had worried that she might become uncomfortable, but the ease with which she had relaxed against him had surprised him.

Malon was always so tense when she was in public. She often kept her metaphorical shield raised even if it was just the two of them alone together, but last night was so different from her usual behavior that he wasn't quite sure what to think.

However, her sudden reticence at the end of his story and the ambiguity of her thoughts had driven his worry back in full force. She had seemed about to say something important, but pulled back at the last moment. Had she recognized him? He had thought for the longest time that she had forgotten all about him, but now he wasn't so sure. If by chance she did remember him from seven years ago, but was keeping it to herself, what would happen if she were to bring it out into the open?

The worst part was that he was now well and truly stuck. If he came out and revealed himself to her, she might accuse him of intentionally hiding it from her, or worse, stalking her. However, if he waited until she brought it up, he might be in an even worse position. Last night was the first sign of her really opening up and the last thing he wanted was to drive her back into her shell.

He sat up and threw back the covers, deciding that lying here in bed wasn't going to give him the answers he sought. He grabbed his shield and climbed out of the window so as not to wake the animals in the barn, dropping to the wagon parked below.

He sat and crossed his legs lotus-style on the bench, then drew the Ocarina of Time from his shield, smiling sadly as he ran his fingers over the sky-blue porcelain. There were so many in the world that depended on him not screwing up. Malon, Sheik, the Princess Zelda … too many. Far too many. And here he was, stuck, without a helping hand or a smidgeon of a clue to guide him.

So he did what he always did when he needed time to think, to clear his head of worries.

He began to play.

A soothing calm washed over him as he rested his fingers in the familiar pattern around the instrument and placed it to his lips. The music was slow at first as he began his warm-up routine. He hadn't practiced since he had arrived at the ranch, so he took his time going through the exercises that Saria had taught him. Eventually he began running through his repertoire, as usual leaving out a few key notes to avoid activating any of the magical songs.

Since his earlier thoughts had been so focused on his ever-growing list of problems, it was only appropriate, really, to practice Malon's song. It was among his favorites to play, since it was a slower song and had always had a calming effect on his nerves. No bolts of inspiration for his problems struck out of the blue while he played, but at least it made him feel better.

He wondered if he should join her the next time he found her singing.

He was nearly finished with his second play-though when his ears perked. He couldn't say what exactly had caught his attention, but his senses were telling him that something had changed in the environment. Link looked up from his ocarina, listening intently, his senses ringing with the last lingering sound of his song. He closed his eyes, shuttering his mind to all distractions. He had learned how to do this a long time ago, back when the first deku babas started appearing in the forest, and this particular skill had served him well in his temple delving adventures.

His breathing nearly stopped as he entered a calming state, his body becoming relaxed as he focused on his surroundings. His sensitive ears could now pick out the softest of sounds, from the wind blowing across the open fields, to flutter of the wings of a passing moth … to the hushed footsteps of a farmgirl scrambling for cover.

He huffed, snapping out of his trance as he realized that his music had not gone unheard. A grimace crossed his features as a new thought came to mind. _If she doesn't already suspect me, the fact that I know that song so well would do it..._

He quietly reached for his shield and replaced the ocarina, then shifted his palm. Withdrawing his hand from the ancient scroll, he drew with it an old tool he had recovered several months back from the Kakariko Graveyard. _Now to make my daring getaway…_

* * *

Malon crouched at the corner of the building, her ears perked as she listened, hoping that whoever or whatever was playing her song would continue. Her prayers were not answered, however, when she heard a loud _clank_, followed by the ratcheting mechanical sound of hydraulic chains. A shiver ran down her spine, her thoughts turning back to the ghost stories that some of the old farmhands had once told her, of haunted spirits laden with chains and hooks and a taste for vengeance.

Silence once again reigned as the metallic sounds stopped. _What __**was**__ that?_

She remained in her crouch for what seemed like forever, her thighs burning and her throat dry as she waited to make sure that whatever had making that sound was well and truly gone. Courage soon returned to her as she stood and crept around the corner of the barn, slowly inching her way towards the far side. She inhaled deeply to steady herself before peeking around the last corner.

Nothing. There was no one there. Confused and with her fear forgotten, she straightened and walked around the corner, scanning the ground and wagon for any clue as to what had been playing such lovely music.

_Nothing, not even a single footprint._

Another shiver ran down her spine at the thought of prowling ghosts haunting her farm came to mind. Her fingers itched for the comforting weight of her crossbow, which was stashed back in the house, then felt silly for it. It was a fine deterrent for the occasional marauding drunk … but what in the world could it possibly do against something that was already dead? Maybe, if brought to bear against real ghosts, a few bolts would at least make them burst into laughter so hard that she would be able to escape.

"Well … so long as they're not stealing the cows…" she joked quietly to herself.

She shivered again as she continued scanning the ground, drawing her arms around herself as she realized how cool the night air really was. Was it really only three weeks ago that she had been swimming in a river in order to cool off? Autumn was making its presence known with a vengeance, and in only a couple of short months winter would be upon them. If it got any colder at night, they might actually have to start worrying about the first frost. The very thought was hard to believe, but then Hyrule had always had some wild swings in weather.

She wandered the grounds for a minute before making her way across the field to a bare spot that had long lay fallow at the northern corner of the ranch, rubbing her arms to warm herself. For years this patch of land had borne the scars of that violent night, but eventually they had cleared away the wreckage and Din had been allowed to retake what was rightfully Hers.

The grave was plain, with two thin stone columns that they had salvaged from the wreckage leaned together to create a simple triangle, the traditional marker for those that could not afford the more lavish tombstones. There had been nothing left to bury, the fire having consumed everything down to the last support pillar, though that hadn't stopped them from memorializing the spot.

Malon was silent as she crouched in front of the grave. There was nothing to say as she studied the simple stone structure – at least, nothing that she hadn't already said. She had made her peace with her mother long ago. As a child she had always felt that her mother was watching over her from wherever souls went when they died, but those thoughts had faded with age, to be replaced by the simple feeling of fond memories.

She turned and stood as a sudden thought occurred to her. _Could it have been __Link? He did hear me singing earlier…_

She strode quickly across the grounds, and within seconds she had crept inside the barn and was stealthily climbing up the ladder to Link's loft, eager to see for herself if he was the culprit. She paused when she reached the top, peeking cautiously over the edge of the balcony, ready to pull her head back down if he was … indecent. Luckily he had the covers pulled up to his shoulders, his steady breathing causing the heavy blanket to rise and fall with each breath.

She felt a pang of frustration, disappointed to find that her guess had been incorrect. His face was peaceful, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. She studied him for a while, content to watch him sleep. After several moments he muttered to himself in his sleep and rolled over, drawing the blanket closer to his head.

_He must be dreaming, _she thought. _I wonder what about…_

Malon sighed and descended the ladder, the cause of the music still a mystery. Frustrated, she jumped and slid down the last three rungs. _Well, it's not like I expected it—_

"_Eep!_" She jumped about a foot into the air with fright when Epona snorted behind her, curiously poking her head out of her stall.

"Epona, don't do that to me!" she whispered desperately to the mare as she spun, trying not to wake any of the other animals.

Epona grunted, shaking her luxurious white mane apologetically.

Malon couldn't help but smile as she reached out and rubbed her hand along the horse's jaw. Epona was unusually intelligent, even for her Gerudo bloodlines. Sometimes it seemed as if the horse could really understand what was being said to her.

Her smile faded as she felt herself suddenly overcome by emotion. She reached out gently, her hands finding their familiar place around the mare's neck as she reached over the stall door and gave her horse a gentle hug. Her fingers brushed against the small burn scar near the nape of Epona's neck, remnant of a piece of flaming timber that had struck her long ago.

A silent tear made its way down Malon's cheek, dropping onto Epona's brown coat.

"At least I still have you, Epona," she whispered to the mare.

She stayed like that for several long moments. Epona remained quiet, sensing her master's distress. Eventually Malon broke from the hug, running a hand along the horse's jaw. "Who knows?" she asked speculatively. "Maybe … maybe it was an angel…"

Wiping the unshed tears from her eyes, Malon turned, scanning the barn one more time, still curious as to what had created such beautiful music.

With a final pat on Epona's cheek and a quiet "Good night," she turned and left, quietly sliding the barn door closed behind her, never noticing the pair of cool cobalt-blue eyes that silently watched her from above.

* * *

When the rains come again,  
And the sun hides its face,  
I think of you,  
Oh, I dream of you,

If I could only turn back the clock,  
And grasp your hand one last time,  
I would live for you,  
I would die for you,  
If Time would only let me.

_~Excerpt from "A Memory Through Time", translated from Old Hylian  
Original author unknown_

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And here's some proof that I'm actually writing. I'll assume most of you are smart enough to put a URL together. Just replace the capitalized words with their symbols. Picture is current as of July 6th 2012.  
(www DOT imgnook DOT com FORWARD-SLASH wvgo2o DOT png)

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	12. Interlude

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

If you would like to see the full cover art for the story, simply replace the DOTs with periods and put this into your web browser URL: lozparadisecalling DOT tumblr DOT com

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- = Interlude = -

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Sulfurous winds howled through threadbare tapestries, causing the aged fabric to flutter and twist in the swirling eddies. The molten moat far beneath the keep cast an eerie ochre glow through the cracked glass windows that made up the entire south wall of the throne room, splashing across the stone ceiling and competing with the flickering yellow light of the torches spaced around the circular room.

Marble pillars ringed the expansive space, blackened by years of accumulated soot and pitted with age and neglect. Several golden symbols remained affixed to the pillars – those few that were deemed inoffensive and had been spared the smelter – further scattering the flickering light. As a result, the shadows in the deepest recesses of the room shifted and seethed like living things, working their way between the cracks and surging forward from the darkest corners, smothering and overwhelming the light before retreating once more in an endless battle of luminescent dominance.

The original marble flooring of the throne room had been torn up and discarded, replaced with a scale map of Hyrule and the surrounding kingdoms, crafted from a dozen different colors of stone. Wooden markers placed around the kingdom indicated populations, important resources, potential uprisings, and troop strengths, so that with a single sweeping glance one would be able to take in the status of the entire realm.

The throne itself was a masterpiece of beauty and comfort, carved from a solid chunk of goronite and inlaid with gold and precious gems. Plump cushions of crimson and lavender adorned its surfaces; much like the king for which it had been crafted, it boasted a thin veneer of comfort over its solid iron core. It sat slightly off center at the back of the room, its twin having been removed long before its current occupant had taken power.

The man's crimson cloak pooled around his powerful body, the same color as his close-cropped hair, and the magic-infused leather armor he wore creaked as he shifted. Three golden triangles adorned his gloved hand, their magic glow piercing through the heavy leather. The topmost triangle pulsed slowly with the dull tempo of it's master's rage.

Ganondorf Dragmire, the usurper King of Hyrule, sat upon his throne, leaning to one side with his chin resting in the palm of his right hand, his fingers moving in small circles at his temples.

Thinking.

Seven years. It had been over seven years since he had stormed the castle. Seven years since he had chased the Princess Zelda and her handmaiden through the burning town and across Hyrule Field, only to lose them in the forest shortly thereafter. Seven long, aggravating years in trying – frustratingly, disastrously, unsuccessfully – to close in on their scent. But every time he managed to unearth their latest hiding place they managed to slip through his fingers and disappear into the night, and still he was not one step closer to achieving total dominion over the kingdom.

_Seven wasted years..._

To top it all off, he was now receiving reports that the greater demons he had summoned to lock away the power of the Sages were being vanquished by a boy bearing the mark of the Triforce. Such a thing could not be allowed to continue. If there was one good thing to come from this, at least he now knew where the Triforce of Courage had disappeared to.

His left hand pensively flexed at the armrest, crushing the velvet beneath his thick fingers. Had the underlying foundation been made of wood instead of forged metal, he would have cracked it in half.

He sat there for some time, pondering the same situation he had been stuck with for so long, circling the latest facts and rumors his spies had delivered to him around and around in his head until it all slowly became a dark simmering blur in his mind.

Before long the sound of feet scuffing the polished floor behind him announced the presence of another being, interrupting his brooding. Ganondorf did not stir, as it took him only seconds to recognize the particular step of his vizier.

"What is it, Agahnim?" he asked irritably.

Agahnim shuffled forward to his side with a nervous gait, his hunter-green robes swirling around his feet. He reached into the folds of his robe and produced a small sheaf of parchment. "My Lord. I have a new report on those enchanted golems that you requested for the palace gates," he said, offering the papers for Ganondorf's inspection

Ganondorf made no move to reach for the documents and merely watched the mage from an angle, impatience burning in his dark eyes. "Have they managed to fix the problems that we had previously discussed?"

"Erm … not quite," Agahnim said, drawing the papers back to his chest and shuffling them in his hands. "The warlocks are still having some trouble adapting their spells to the Hylian architecture, something to do with the particular way that the composition of the granite interferes with the ley lines..." he drifted off, then continued slower, "I believe the word they used was 'hinky', Sire."

"_Hinky_," Ganondorf said, testing the word, the displeasure running through his voice like a sour harp cord.

Agahnim rapidly flipped through his notes. "B-but they have made some progress on the longevity of the spell. The only major problems remaining are their extreme temper and the fact that we don't know if they will reliably exhibit self-preservation. We've only be able to perform limited tests and so far they've only behaved like trapped animals, because that is essentially what they are. Of course, that's precisely the opposite of what we have designed them for, so their very nature conflicts with the restraining measures we must take until the spell is perfected."

Ganondorf was quiet for several moments as he thought. Finally, he turned his head and regarded his vizier with barely suppressed contempt. "How is it, Agahnim, that my head mage has spent months on this one problem without producing an adequate solution?"

Agahnim's flinty eyes turned hard. Maybe somewhere in there he did have a spine after all. "I would remind my Lord that my areas of expertise are elemental and transmutation magic, not anthropomorphism. I am able to maintain this keep in a suspended position above the magma pit, but if you want it to come alive and dance for your amusement, you'll have to look elsewhere."

Ganondorf snorted and waved his hand, dismissing the matter. He'd known of these details for ages and had already worked them into his plan. Patience, however, was not one of his stronger virtues, and venting his anger on such an easy target as Agahnim was … therapeutic.

He turned and stared off into the middle distance, once again lost in his thoughts. As the quiet dragged on, Agahnim shuffled his papers and swallowed nervously, obviously with something more to say, but seeing as Lord Ganondorf had not given him permission to speak he remained silent.

Finally, when Ganondorf decided that the mage had been kept waiting long enough to make his displeasure known, he turned to his left – the opposite direction of Agahnim – and spoke to the darkest corner of the room.

"You may show yourself, Sheikah."

At first there was no response, only the steady whistling of the roiling wind and Agahnim's confused grunt. Then, after several long moments, the shadows swirled, shifting as a wraith detached itself from the wall.

As the shadows withdrew, his form became more distinct. Blond hair poked beneath his wrappings and curled around his face, revealing a solitary eye the color of fresh blood that shone with an inner steel, belying his lithe form. His arms and fingers were wrapped in the same strips of linen as his head, whether because of old wounds or merely for aesthetic purposes Ganondorf didn't know. The ancient symbol of the Sheikah was emblazoned upon his chest, as if in open defiance of all those that had hunted their race to the brink of extinction.

When Sheik had reached a respectful distance from the throne he bowed, crossing his right arm across his chest to touch his shoulder in salute. "My Lord is as observant as ever," he said with a hint of amusement.

Ganondorf sneered contemptuously. "For someone who claims to be so versed in the arts of the shadows, you do a poor job of hiding in my throne room," he said, and waved his arm towards the windows. "Never forget, little Shiekah, that the burning sun of the desert casts the darkest shadows. And I am intimately familiar with both."

Sheik nodded in acknowledgment. "My lord misunderstands my intentions. I was merely practicing my arts, so that I might be a more useful weapon for you to wield. What better way to hone my craft than against the strongest adversaries in the kingdom?"

Ganondorf snorted, amused but unaffected by the blatant pandering. "Perhaps."

"What is it you want, shadow rat?" Agahnim sneered, crossing his arms.

Sheik turned and considered the robed mage, who took a step back. His crimson eyes crinkled, an obvious smirk hidden beneath his mask. "You're afraid of me."

"No, I simply don't trust you," Agahnim snarled vehemently. "There's a reason the Hylian King exterminated your ilk."

Sheik chuckled sourly. "The Shadow Clan was wiped out years ago because that idiot of a King was more interested in fabricating false evidence and digging up an ancient grudge rather than focusing his attention on the invading Twili. Had he been a more competent ruler, the kingdom would not have dissolved into civil war, and the Sheikah would still walk the streets of Kakariko." He shook his head. "I may not hold any particular loyalty to Lord Ganondorf, but my people owe the royal family a debt of blood that honor demands be repaid."

Ganondorf watched on, quietly amused as the two bickered, content to let them continue for at least a little while longer.

"_Psh_, honor," Agahnim scoffed. "Your honor has not produced the Princess, nor was it able to save your people. Your _honor_ is apparently worth very little. I wonder if your misguided feelings for your dead clan are so strong that it's lead you to turn traitor. Somehow the Princess has always managed to stay one step ahead of us. Maybe you've secretly been collaborating all along with that other Sheikah, Impa."

Sheik took a step forward. "As long as we are agreed that the remaining Royal Family needs to be found and brought to justice, we are allies. As for Impa, we broke ties year ago when she made it explicitly clear that she would remain a lapdog to the King. I've not seen nor heard from her since."

"Then why haven't you found the Princess yet?" Agahnim asked.

Sheik's eyes hardened, and he looked to Ganondorf. "If my liege would be more lenient and allow me to focus my attention solely to the task of finding the Princess instead of sending me on simple milk runs that a handful of bokoblins could perform, I might have delivered her to you years ago."

Ganondorf was silent for several long moments, his eyes locked on that of the young man in front of him. The seconds ticked by, until finally he said, "You forget yourself, Shiekah."

Sheik blinked, then bowed, though not so low as to show true respect. "My Lord."

"And pray tell, were you successful in your 'milk run'?" Ganondorf asked. "Or have you failed me in that as well?"

Sheik reached into the satchel at his hip, withdrawing an jade-hued amulet. The core of the gem flickered with an inner magical light as he passed it to Ganondorf's outstretched hand.

"Wonderful," Ganondorf said, admiring the jewel. "It would seem that my trust in you is not misplaced after all."

Agahnim frowned at the jewel, looking distrustfully between it and the Sheikah. "If I may ask, my Lord; what is that?"

"The answer to at least one of your many problems," he said, tossing the amulet carelessly to Agahnim. The mage caught the emerald jewel, nearly fumbling it, and inspected it curiously.

Ganondorf turned back to Sheik. "You brought me something useful, for once," he said, then waved his hand dismissively. "Leave us. Continue your hunt for the Princess."

Sheik bowed, once again crossing his arm across his chest in salute, then backed away into the darkest corner of the throne room. In a swirl of shadows, his form quickly became indistinct, and he was gone.

Ganondorf stared into the darkness for several moments before turning to Agahnim. "There's something you're not telling me."

Agahnim cleared his throat. "We have reports that Impa has been sighted outside of Kakariko," he said, adding hastily, "There has been no word on the Princess, however."

"The Princess' handmaiden, alone? So close?" Ganondorf asked in interest, leaning forward. Finally, some news worthy of his attention. "How accurate are these reports?"

"Quite accurate, Sire. As per your orders, our spies are maintaining a safe distance so as not to spook them into fleeing once more. I will have a more detailed report for you before the morrow."

Ganondorf rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, and it's no coincidence that you waited for the Sheikah to leave to tell me this."

Agahnim opened his mouth to speak, but Ganondorf slammed his fist onto the armrest, silencing him. "Ambition is commendable, Agahnim, but not at the expense of my plans," he said venomously, and pointed a finger at the mage's chest. "Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

Agahnim clutched at the amulet. "Sire, I just feel that you put too much trust in the Sheikah."

"I trust him to do what is in his best interest. Past that line, my trust ends," Ganondorf said pointedly. "The same as with you."

The message was clear. Sheik was a useful tool, but he was expendable, just the same as Agahnim if he did not produce adequate results, and soon.

"My Lord," Agahnim said, bowing his head submissively.

Ganondorf leaned forward and considered the map on the floor. He had spent many candlemarks poring over the information laid out before him, trying to deduce where the Princess Zelda might be hiding. He knew she was still within the borders of Hyrule. The Princess would not leave her kingdom, not while she still felt she had a chance to reclaim the throne.

As his eyes swept over the map, a new thought struck him. "I believe I have a solution to your remaining quandaries."

"Sire?" Agahnim said, raising his head.

"It would seem to me that the last major obstacle you are facing is that you have not been able to perform reliable tests to see if the golem will be able to operate on their own," he said, and gestured towards the center of the large map laid out before him, indicating a tiny fort on a hill surrounded by a massive open field. "I am looking to give you such an opportunity."

Agahnim was quiet as he worked his King's meaning out for himself, and scowled as he drew the only logical conclusion. "I don't see why you waste your time dealing with that sniveling shrew. Why not just kill them and take the land for yourself? Surely one of your lieutenants would be much more efficient if you were to take direct control."

"As the Sheikah said earlier, Agahnim; Old debts are meant to be repaid," Ganondorf said, then flicked his wrist as if swatting an annoying fly. "Go. Give the warlocks the amulet. Tell them to drop everything and focus on replicating it. That should take care of any obedience issues they might be running into. I must think more on this."

Agahnim bowed low, then turned and shuffled out of the doorway behind the throne.

Ganondorf remained seated, contemplating the kingdom laid bare at his feet. He flexed his iron gauntlets eagerly in anticipation. He had waited seven long years for his adversaries to make a mistake, and it looked as if his time had finally come. If he could capture the Princess' handmaiden, she would make the perfect bait. Zelda would come for Impa, and the Hero would come for the Princess.

Soon. Soon he would have the Princess of Destiny in his grasp, and then the remaining pieces of the Triforce would be his.

Very soon.

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Full update notes in my profile.

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	13. Chapter 11: Mending the Cracks

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

I have a new poll up in my profile. You should go check it out.

Ultimately ended up cutting about half the chapter since it was useless fluff. Troublesome fluff at that. So off to the chopping block it goes.

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Chapter 11: Mending the Cracks

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Some days, Link felt that he was ready for anything the world could throw at him. It was as if the moment he rolled out of bed, everything just went right. A good breakfast, a quick romp through an abandoned mine or frozen cave, and back to a local inn for a hearty dinner and a soft bed. Some days it seemed as if his shield blocked every incoming blow and his sword always struck true.

Today was not one of those days.

"_Gaaah!_"

Link cried out as the heavy hammer he was wielding connected solidly with his thumb.

"Nice one," Navi observed from her familiar orbit overhead, stifling her laughter as Link dropped the hammer and clutched his injured thumb tenderly, moaning in pain while he jumped up and danced in circles. He proceeded to use every curse that he had ever learned, even a few of the more colorful ones that he had picked up from Darunia.

_Damnit damnit damnit..._

In a pique of rage he grabbed the offending tool and chucked it with all of his might over the edge of the windmill. It sailed at an angle clear across the expansive compound, tumbling nearly all the way to the third windmill at the southwest corner of the ranch before clattering against the far wall and into the grass. Several of the goats that were grazing in the outer pasture of the field scattered in fright.

Navi watched dispassionately as the tool arced through the air. "I'm not retrieving that for you," She said as she watched the bleating goats, then turned and regarded him quizzically. "You seem distracted. Something on your mind?"

Link sucked at the bleeding gash on his throbbing thumb, using the moment it bought him to collect his thoughts. He had avoided mentioning his troubles to Navi when she had returned the night before, instead discussing with her what little she had managed to learn about Sheik's whereabouts. It was by chance that one of the local faeries had spotted the Sheikah sneaking across the border of Holodrum several weeks back. What he was traveling there for, Link could only begin to guess.

So he had resigned himself to waiting on the Sheikah's return for the next step in his quest and decided to instead focus his complete attention on helping out here on the ranch. Now that his primary objective was truly on hold, his mind was free to puzzle out the rest of his chaotic life, and he knew exactly what was distracting him.

… _Malon …_

He worried about her. He hadn't known what to expect when he first met her again. So much had changed over the past seven years that sometimes he didn't even recognize what parts of the kingdom had become in his absence. He was prepared for her to be older of course, more mature, but she wasn't the same person he had known as a child. Not quite. He could see the scars hiding just beneath the cheerful mask that she presented to the world, the cracks in her armor.

He had seen it in others that he had known before he was locked away; that tired, bone-deep weariness brought on by seven years of constant war and oppression that caused their shoulders to slouch and their brightest smiles to wilt. But he hadn't wanted to believe that it could happen to his closest friends as well. Not her, not Malon.

The old Malon was still in there, somewhere. He could see it in her when she visited her favorite customers, or when she sung to her horses, the way her ordinarily forced smile would finally reach her eyes. For the most part though, when she was in public she always held perfect control over her outward emotions, never letting on that her upbeat attitude was a fragile facade that could come crashing down at any moment. Even in private, here around the ranch, she rarely allowed her true feelings to be known when he or Ingo were nearby. There was a weariness about her that hadn't been there seven years before. Sometimes when she thought she was alone her eyes took on such a lost look, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to restore her to her childhood innocence, to take away nearly a decade of accumulated pain.

He shook his injured hand absently and responded to his friend's inquiry, "I don't have all of the answers, Navi."

Navi blinked and considered the abrupt seriousness of his response. "You're just now realizing that?" she asked softly, flitting up to sit on his shoulder. "No one's perfect, Link. If we were, we wouldn't be fighting this war."

"I should be," he said, raising his left hand. The golden outline of the Triforce of Courage burned faintly under the noon-day sun. "I'm the great Hero, aren't I? I'm supposed to be able to fix all of this. But I can't even figure out how to help one person. What chance does the kingdom stand?"

"The Goddesses have a plan, even if we can't always tell what it is."

Link groaned as he leaned on the low wall, staring off into the middle distance across the compound. The windmills on the outer walls spun in great lazy circles as the wind swept across the plains. "Well, I wish They'd give me a clue every once in a while. I'm starting to get tired of guessing constantly."

"We're only mortal, Link. Even us faeries," Navi said with a shrug. "We all just have to muddle through as best as we can with the short life we're given."

Link smiled faintly. "Heh, speak for yourself. I plan to live forever."

After a long moment, Navi patted his shoulder. "Well, you might as well take a break. You've been driving yourself pretty hard today. Maybe a walk and some water will clear your head."

Link grunted, turning and leaning back against the wall with his elbows propped on the railing, evidently in no hurry as his thoughts swirled in his head. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes against the sun, and willed the tension from his body.

He was still leaning against the wall several moments later when the wooden ladder leading down below began to vibrate with rhythmic footsteps.

Navi flitted upwards, alarmed. "Uh-oh, time to go," she said, and zipped out of view over the edge of the palisade.

The two of them had agreed that suddenly acquiring a faerie might be fairly noticeable, and he didn't want that kind of attention from Ingo, much less Malon. Just because they didn't seem to recognize him from seven years ago didn't mean that they had forgotten about him completely, and something as obvious as a faerie flying around would be sure to spark a memory. Best to continue the facade, at least for a little while longer.

A small wicker basket appeared first, propped on the ledge and pushed forward before Malon pulled herself up the ladder.

"Morning," he said in simple greeting as she appeared.

"Actually, I think it's past noon already," Malon replied, picking up the basket and wiping the dust off her skirt. She glanced around as if looking for someone. "Were you up here talking to yourself?"

Link grinned. "Would you believe me if I said I was talking to the bugs?"

She regarded him with a wry half-smile, then shook her head. "You're a strange one, Link."

"No argument here," he said, eyeing her speculatively. His interest was piqued by her sudden appearance. At this time of day she would normally be tending to the horses. "What's in the basket?" he asked.

Malon paused and glanced down at the wicker basket in her hands as if unsure of herself, then held it out for his inspection. "I … I thought we'd eat lunch together. It's just, you've been working so hard ever since you got here and … last night, with the story you told me, it … it made me realize that we've never really gotten a chance to just talk … and ..."

The blush on her face continued to deepen as she spoke. He listened politely as she floundered, searching for words. However, his quiet staring only seemed to unnerve her, as she quickly swung the basket around, preparing to beat a hasty retreat. Her words came in a rush, "But I can see that you must be too busy at the moment, so I'll just leave this here…"

She felt his gloved hand wrap around her arm, gently pulling her back. "Hey, when did I ever say I was too busy to talk with you?"

She turned around, feeling both chastised and relieved.

He lifted the lid, inspecting the contents, and peaked under the sliced loaves of fresh bread. He was pleasantly surprised to find thick slices of cucco breast, crisp lettuce, and fragrant goat cheese artfully arranged and drizzled with a local spicy mustard. Two small bottles of chilled milk were tucked in the corner.

"Wow, you really went all-out, didn't you?" He said appreciatively.

Her blush deepened. "It's only sandwiches," She said.

He gestured for her to step away from the ladder and they sat along the outer wall, facing outwards towards the massive expanse of Hyrule Field. Malon set the basket down and began unloading its contents, offering one of the bottles of milk to Link and placing a plate full of sandwiches between them.

They ate their lunches, enjoying the cool breeze and the soaring vista before them as they chatted amicably. They talked of inconsequential things, mostly about Link's steadily growing worklist and how he liked it here on the ranch or about Malon's busy schedule over the next week, until nearly all of the sandwiches were gone.

Licking a stray bit of mustard from her thumb, Malon turned to Link and asked the question that had been burning in the back of her mind all day. "Link, did you happen to hear anything last night? Say, around midnight?"

The young ranchhand seemed to think this over for a few moments before shaking his head. "Nope, slept like a log. Why?"

She thought for a moment about explaining her theory of musical ghosts, but decided against it. "No reason."

Link shrugged, then yawned, stretching his arms out way over his head. "A good meal and a warm day. Perfect time for a nap." He flopped down onto his back, letting his eyes fall closed. He stretched again before crossing his arms under his head in a makeshift pillow.

Malon smiled, lying back and turning so that her head landed comfortably in the crook of his outstretched elbow. "You know, I think you just read my mind."

"Hmm. I can read palms too." He said, blowing a few of her stray auburn locks out of his face.

Malon giggled. "You cannot."

"It's true, I picked it up from an old fortune teller out near Lake Hylia. Said I was a real natural."

Malon shot up, turning to face him and holding out her hands excitedly. "Try me."

"All right," Link sat up and crossed his legs, and took her hands in his, inspecting them with the diligence that a master shieldsmith might inspect his latest work for blemishes or cracks. He turned them over once, inspecting the smooth backs of her hands and running the pads of his thumbs over her knuckles before flipping them over once more. His fingers sketched the lines and creases of her hands, tracing out strange archaic symbols where none could be seen.

She felt a small thrill go up her spine as one of his fingers rubbed against the tender skin of her wrist. Her pulse was quickening. It was a strange kind of magic that he was performing, one that captivated her attention completely. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his fingers as they worked their way along her hands, never missing a single spot. As his fingers ran along the lines of her palms, she had to force herself to keep them open when he occasionally passed over a ticklish spot.

Link hummed as he worked. "A good future is in store for you. Long life, good health … a troubled past, but nothing too much out of the ordinary," he paused, then leaned forward and said, "Oh, now this is interesting..."

Malon's eyes flicked up in interest, and she regained enough of her senses to remember what they were doing in the first place. "Well, what do you see?"

"I see…" Link paused, gathering his thoughts. He looked up from his work and gazed at her very seriously. "That you work very hard."

Malon rolled her eyes at him. "Well, gee, I do live on a ranch. How'd you guess?"

Link pointed at a spot on her hand gravely, beckoning her to have a closer look. "You see right here, where your lifeline and your fateline nearly merge?

"Yeah?" She leaned in closer to inspect the spot he was indicating, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

His lips curled in a shadow of a smile as he glanced up and looked at her through his bangs. "You have calluses."

She tore her hands from his grasp and gave him a semi-playful swat on the arm, mouth opened in a perfect 'O' of astonishment. "How could you be so cruel, Link?"

"Cruel? How am I cruel?" He exclaimed. "I didn't even charge you for the fortune."

"How could you say something so cruel about a young lady like me?" She pouted. "Imagine, calluses! On these perfect, delicate hands! I'll have you know that my hands are the envy of Queens!" She spread her hands wide before her for his inspection.

Link leapt to his feet, eager to continue the game. He bowed low with a flourish and adopted a posh Noble accent. "You must forgive me for my impertinence, my Lady, for I was so blinded by your flawless, exquisite beauty that my mouth charged off before my brain could catch up." He looked up, still stooped in a bow, and offered his left hand, his right tucked into the small of his back. "If you'll permit me, your Grace, I would be most honored if you would accompany me to the royal ball this eventide."

Malon found her hands in his as he pulled her to her feet and swept her around, arms tightly wrapped around her waist. "A ball? I've never been to a ball before," She said in wonder.

"All the more reason for you to come with me." He declared, holding her hand over their heads and sending her into a pirouette.

Malon laughed as she spun. "But good Sir Link, I own nothing but the simplest of dresses, much less a gown! Whatever would I wear?"

He stopped her midspin and held her gently, leaning forward as he tipped her back, his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. Her hair fell in fiery cascades, brushing the wooden deck. "I don't think it really matters, does it?" He said softly, "You always look great in everything you wear."

The smile fled Malon's face as her eyes went wide, a crimson blush flooding her cheeks and her pulse pounding in her ears as time seemed to slow to a crawl. For an instant panic seized her heart, and she flailed, causing her feet to slip out from underneath her. Link tried to pull her upright, caught off-guard by her sudden reaction, but quickly found that he was supporting both of their weight and began to fall. He spun as they tumbled to the wooden deck, barely managing to avoid crushing Malon beneath him.

Her breath came in shallow gasps. She tried to calm herself, tried to concentrate on the world around her. Her hands, shaking now, lying splayed on his abdomen. His body beneath hers. Warm, strong, supple. His face inches from hers, his watchful eyes a heartbeat away if she only had the courage to look up. She found that she couldn't.

Neither seemed to be able to find words, nor the desire to speak them. Malons eyes swept downwards, retreating from his cautious gaze, past his pursed lips, across the gentle cleft of his chin before finally coming to rest on the sweat slicked flesh over the rapid fluttering of his heartbeat.

A part of her was terrified. She was able to recognize the irrationality of what she felt, but could do no more against it than a sandcastle against the tide. Flashes of that day when they had first met ran through her mind. The stench of unwashed bodies, the clawing desperation of those that sought to hurt her, or worse. The fear she had felt when she knew in her heart that she would soon die.

Another part of her, a dark, animalistic side of her, thought something else entirely. Again it drew her back to that same day they had first met, when she had woken up to find a handsome stranger watching over her, the dark shadows crossing his blue eyes, the winsome smile. She wet her lips nervously as she focused intently on his beating pulse.

She wondered what he tasted like.

Link shifted, his leg coming up between hers, ruffling her skirt. He felt her breath catch, so he froze. Her hands – formerly content to stay on his stomach – began their slow, inexorable crawl upwards across his chest. Her lips, in contrast, worked to form the words, but found that all faculties of speech had fled her. She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip.

His leg rose higher, and he was rewarded with a tentative returning push against him and a low hum of … pleasure? He felt her burning warmth against his thigh, saw the need in the supple curves of her body as she arched against him, felt the flame of desire in her gaze.

"Malon..."

And the spell was broken. In an instant she had pushed off of him and shot to her feet, retreating as far as she could to the edge of the railing, her eyes avoiding his. Link slowly stood as well, dusting off his clothes nervously before looking at her.

He struggled to find the words, "Yes, ahh … Thank you ... for lunch."

She nodded mutely, her gaze only flicking towards him for a brief moment before she turned and fled back down the ladder.

Link sighed, leaning up against the palisade wall and sliding down to the floor. He sat like that for several long minutes as the adrenaline drained from his body.

He rubbed his forehead, then snorted and shook his head. "Great job, Link. _Re-eal_ smooth…"

"Awww, that was _sooo_ cute..." Navi cooed as she fluttered down from her high orbit. "Too bad you had to go and ruin the mood. Nice going, lover-boy."

Link glared daggers at her as his cheeks burned. "Sh-shut up, Navi."

Navi continued her merciless teasing, "Hey, I don't blame ya. She's grown up to be a real looker," She said, then paused in flight as the contents of Malon's abandoned basket came into view and gasped in surprise. "_Oh_, is that really cucco?"

"What? _Where?_" Link tensed, then sighed in relief as Navi dived into the basket with a squeal of delight. She flew out with the last of the sandwiches hanging from her diminutive hands. Her tiny wings were working overtime just to keep her afloat.

Link watched as she struggled with the heavy load, bemused. "Careful now, don't eat it all at once," he cautioned.

"My sammich," Navi purred happily, and flew off to devour her feast in private.

* * *

As usual, check out my profile for full chapter notes.

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	14. Chapter 12: Falling For You

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

Fair warning: We're going to be deviating from the original game a fair bit here for the rest of the story. As I've said before, don't just think of this story as _Ocarina of Time_. Think of it as the extended director's cut.

* * *

Chapter 12: Falling For You

* * *

I stare at the girl in the mirror,  
T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen,  
But the way that you see me,  
You get underneath me  
And all my defenses just fall away...

~ Halestorm, _"Beautiful With You"_

* * *

Malon had been in a sullen mood for several days, ever since they had made a delivery of several horses and nearly their entire heard of goats to one of Ganondorf's lieutenants. She had fought Ingo to keep them for as long as she could, even going so far as to attempt to convince him that there was a hoof disease spreading through the livestock, but eventually he put his foot down and decided that enough was enough; they were to be delivered in whatever condition they were in, and damn the consequences.

She was sad to see her horses go. The money was no consolation. It was barely more than what it had cost to raise the animals in the first place. Breaking even might work well for a convent, but stagnation for a ranch meant certain death. Replacements for broken bottles, medicine for sick animals, a new axle for the wagon, and of course Link's ever expanding list of maintenance and repair work … these things did not come cheaply. They were a part of the necessary operating budget that a successful ranch would have to balance, or there would soon come to be no ranch at all. Many people thought that a successful business would enable them to live a comfortable, even luxurious life, but more often than not they were just barely scraping by trying to make ends meet.

Malon was busy running their latest expenses through her head as she made breakfast, desperately trying to come up with a way that they could further trim their budget. Anemic as it was, there wasn't much she could find that they could cut and still remain afloat.

She looked down at the sizzling pan that held the last of their eggs and briefly considered selling off the cuccos, but quickly dismissed that notion. Not only would the newly repaired nest be a waste of resources, their eggs and the occasional rooster were one of the few regular sources of energy rich food in their diets. After her father had shut down windmill #3 – which had operated as their private slaughterhouse for years – and sold off the hogs, meat of any kind had become a scarce commodity around the ranch. Running a ranch was hard work, and they needed all of the energy they could get. Stale bread would only be able to carry them so far.

Her hair fell across her face as she flipped the eggs, and a thought struck her. She grabbed a stray lock and sniffed. Still fairly clean...ish. Maybe she could cut back a few baths a month, save on soap. It wouldn't add up to much, but any sliver of black in their budget would help...

Link and Ingo sat at the table, sipping their coffee and waiting patiently as Malon worked diligently over the skillet. Ingo had decided to join them for breakfast, and as usual he was making a nuisance of himself. He sharply nudged Link with his elbow, causing the farmhand to nearly spill his coffee as he brought it to his lips.

"Ah, the proper place for a woman; feet planted firmly in front of the stove. Am I right?" Ingo said, making sure he was loud enough for Malon to hear. He had been in a foul mood lately as well, though where Malon was subdued, Ingo was feeling unusually antagonistic.

Link merely sipped at his watery coffee and pretended that he hadn't heard. It seemed to be the best way to deal with Ingo when he was in one of his moods; ignore him and eventually he'd find something else worthy of his attention.

Malon finished dividing up the eggs, turning with both plates in hand, and dropped Ingo's plate none-too-gently in front of him with an irritated glare that completely escaped his notice. She set Link's down softer, then went to retrieve her own breakfast.

Ingo dug into his breakfast voraciously, as if the cuccos whose eggs he was inhaling had personally wronged him in some manner. Link ate at a more leisurely pace, waiting politely for Malon to join them.

Breakfast that morning was a subdued affair. Ingo seemed disinclined to mouth off while there was food in front of him, while Malon nibbled half-heartedly on a piece of plain toasted bread. Her eyes flickered back and forth in thought as she chewed, as if she were reading from a ledger that only she could see.

"Is that all you're having?" Link asked.

"All we can afford right now," Malon replied distractedly, never looking in his direction.

Link felt guilt settle into his stomach, looking down at his own plate. Why was Malon not splitting the food evenly if they had so little to go around?

Ingo snapped his fingers and turned to Link. "That reminds me. You, farmhand. I want you to make today's milk run into Kakariko. I've got a list of supplies I want you to pick up too, since apparently I can't trust the woman with the wagon." He threw a nasty glare in Malon's direction.

Malon set down her toast. "Ingo, I don't think we can afford any more supplies this week," she said, massaging her temple. "We already owe the Smith family for that new axle."

"Yes, yes, the axle that _you_ broke," Ingo said quietly, then suddenly slammed his hands down on the table, jarring their plates. Link and Malon both jumped at the sudden outburst. "Who's the one running this ranch, _wench?_" Ingo spat, jabbing a finger at her face. "I know our accounts better than anyone in this room. If it wasn't for your lazy, good for nothing father we wouldn't even be in this hole that we've found ourselves in in the first place!"

The sudden stillness in the room was oppressive. Link sat as quietly as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them in surprise as the electric tension began to build. _Uh oh, this can't end well..._

Malon rose, pushing her chair back and planting both hands on the table. "Don't talk about my father that way," She said venomously through gritted teeth.

Ingo, having finally found a sore point to needle, seemed to take this as a challenge. "Or what?" He sneered. "We both know that it was your useless father that nearly drove this ranch into the ground, and if it weren't for me, this entire place would have gone under years ago."

"My father built this place up with his bare hands!"

"Your father built this place on the backs of others. If it weren't for me and the other workers, this ranch wouldn't even exist," Ingo countered, waving a hand in disgust. "I'm just the only one he couldn't drive off."

Malon bit back a retort, her hands clenched at her sides and teeth bared in a snarl. Eventually, finally, she regained her composure enough to slam her chair beneath the table. "I'm going to go get the wagon ready," She bit out as she stormed out of the room.

The front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the windows. "Stupid bitch," Ingo said as he turned, then performed a double-take as he finally remembered Link had been in the room the whole time. "What the hell are you doing sitting around when there's work to be done? Get to it!"

Link cleared his throat. "I'd, ah … like it if Malon could accompany me into town," He said mildly.

Ingo gave Link a suspicious glare. "The wench needs to stay here and learn her place. She can't do that gallivanting around all of Hyrule with the likes of you, especially with all of the work that needs to get done." He waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, if she went with you, who knows what dark alley she might wind up in?"

"I assure you that I would protect Malon with my life."

"I didn't mean that she's be in danger. I meant that she's a whore. A lying, filthy whore," Ingo said with a nasty smile. "You should see the way the town guards lust after her every time she flaunts her way through the market, and the way she flirts with them when she should be working." He scowled as a new thought struck him, and he stabbed an accusing finger at Link. "And don't you go and be getting any ideas about her either, ya hear me? Bad enough to have one addle-brained good-for-nothing slut around here. Last thing we need is two of them."

Link took a calming breath, then continued. "Be that as it may … I've only ever been to Kakariko once before. I would really like Malon's help in getting to know the town better. At least until I get a better handle on things. I mean, let's be honest here, every one of those merchants is out to rob you blind, but Malon knows them all already. She could point out which ones are worth dealing with, and which ones are just trying to take us for a ride."

Ingo grunted unhappily. "Hmph. You make a decent enough point, I suppose," He said, staring off into the middle-distance. "I knew this felt like a milking day. Just knew it." He finished off his coffee, slamming the mug onto the table irritably.

"It will only be until I can get acquainted enough with the surrounding towns, and as you've seen, I'm a quick learner," Link said.

Ingo grunted. "Fine, fine. Just keep her in your sights, will you? If she sneaks off and gets knocked up, I'm placing sole responsibility on you."

Link gave him his best mock salute. "You're the boss, boss."

Ingo eyed him for a moment as if deciding whether or not to be insulted, then just shook his head in irritation and stalked towards the front door. "Just hurry up and get gone. You're wasting daylight."

Link waited a beat to make sure the man was gone before unclenching his fists. For a brief moment he had wished that his personal sense of honor wasn't so finely ingrained. A few choice tortures for that slimeball had flashed through his mind, and he found to his disgust that the thought of performing them wasn't as ghastly as they should have been.

His temper momentarily tamed, he stood and cleaned the remaining dishes on the table before heading out to find Malon.

* * *

Link made a quick detour to the loft, slipping into his chainmail and retrieving his sword and shield before heading down to the wagon. The milk crates had been loaded before breakfast, and Malon was just finishing hitching Epona when he arrived. He climbed onto the bench, setting his gear in the gap behind him.

"Here, have fun," Malon said tersely, tossing him the reins. "List's in the first box behind you. Try to get the best deals you can, and don't forget anything or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Why don't you jump on?" He said, giving the bench beside him a pat. "There's plenty of room for two."

Malon turned, hands on her hips, and gave him an incredulous look as if to say, _'Are you a __**complete**__ idiot?'_

Link countered with his best _'lost puppy'_ eyes. "_Ple-ease?_"

"If you honestly think Ingo would let me out of shouting range for more than five minutes, you've been spending too much time with the cuccos."

"I've already talked Ingo into letting you come along," He said simply. "As my guide."

Malon blinked, but she still wasn't buying it. "How in the world did you manage that?" She asked.

"I told him that I don't know Kakariko as well as you do, so I'll need someone to show me around in case the merchants rob me blind, at least until I learn how to do this on my own," He shrugged. "In return, he basically made me promise not to let you out of my sight."

Malon eyed him speculatively, the first hint of a smile curling her lips. "You lied to him."

"Well … yeah." Link said, as if there had ever been any question.

Her eyes darted towards the house. "And you're not just leading me on?"

"Do you think I'm the kind of person to do that?"

Malon shook her head, bemused. "Heh. All right, then," She said, holding out her hand. Link pulled her up, and she smoothed out her skirt as she settled onto the seat next to him.

With a flick of the reins, they were off.

* * *

They drove hard, taking less than five candlemarks total to reach the village and, between the two of them, deliver all of the milk. Many of the customers were wary of Link at first, but they quickly warmed up to him when Malon introduced him as the new farmhand.

Ahead of schedule and with their coffers temporarily flush with newly earned profits, Link decided that a quick stop by one of the local taverns was in order before they finished their errands. He steered Epona left at the main thoroughfare instead of right, heading towards the gate that would eventually lead them up the path towards Death Mountain. It was in the shadier part of town, but Link was friends with Baru, the owner. He was the kind of man who didn't take kindly to thugs making trouble in his tavern, and as such it was always a quiet place to trade stories and find out the latest gossip. Plus, his wife cooked some of the best fare in town.

Malon's eyes grew wide as she realized which part of town they had entered. She normally refused to sell her wares door to door here, instead preferring to let the market merchants buy in lots and resell to the … less reputable denizens of the town that might have a craving for fresh dairy products. She glanced at Link askance, but said nothing.

"Thought we could take a quick break before we head to the market," He explained. "I haven't been here in a while, so I wanted to check in and see if anyone had heard anything about my Sheikah friend."

Malon nodded. It seemed like a reasonable request.

When they arrived at the Nag's Head Inn, they dismounted and handed Epona off to a young, sleepy looking stable-girl, who perked up immensely when Link slipped her an extra ten rupee tip. She led the wagon around back, promising to give Epona a good rubdown before they returned.

Malon was quiet as they entered the tavern, her pulse quickening and eyes wide and darting as she took in such unfamiliar surroundings. The man behind the bar was the first thing that drew her attention. His bald head nearly scraped the short ceiling above the bar, and Malon guessed he must have been nearly seven feet tall. He nodded at Link as they entered, obviously familiar with the farmhand, before turning back to the customer he had been conversing with. Dozens of people crowded the floor, seated at tables and stools along the bar, many drinking from large flagons even though it was barely after noon. The low, buzzing din of a dozen conversations dampened the steady clinking of glasses, and the thin haze of smoke hovering overhead created the illusion of stormclouds indoors.

Link nodded towards an empty table near the back of the room. "Go take a seat and rest for a bit while I grab some food," He said, then turned and disappeared into the crowded tavern, heading in the direction of the bar. Malon slowly made her way through the crowd, anxiety pulling at her feet as she made her way to the small, two-person table and sat. She fidgeted as she settled into her seat, uncomfortably aware of the many interested pairs of eyes that had settled on her as soon as she was alone. No one made a move to join her, however, and she did her best to blend into the background. She picked at the splintered table top with nervous energy, absently tracing out the random assortment of names and vulgarities carved into the ancient oak by similarly bored patrons as her eyes darted across the tavern.

As she scanned the room, an older man glanced at her, his silver-laced mustache and woolen cap giving him a distinguished appearance. For a brief instant their eyes met, and he nodded respectfully before turning back to his conversation. For some reason this eased the tension in her shoulders, if only a little. These people … they had lives of their own to lead. She knew that Ingo liked to frequent these sorts of places, but she supposed that not everyone that did should be like him. She should have realized that they weren't all womanizing drunkards. After all, it was apparent that Link came here often enough for the owner to recognize him, and he was one of the kindest, most selfless people she had ever met.

She was lucky to have met him. She hated to admit it, even if only to herself, but she had been in a depressive spiral before he had come along. The stress of day to day life had been eating away at her for a long time now, and while he hadn't alleviated the problem, he had managed to to bolster her resolve, to buoy her courage like an island in a stormy sea.

As for him …

She hadn't exactly come out and asked him directly what he thought of her, but she thought that he seemed to enjoy her company. He always seemed to have a ready smile and a clever quip whenever she was around, and was always willing to help with the work around the ranch without complaint.

Her eyes lost focus as her thoughts drew her inward. That night where she had been training Arion, and he had appeared out of nowhere … She knew that she enjoyed his friendship, but had there been something more? She ran the night over and over again in her head, trying to remember just what exactly had happened. It seemed like such a blur now, less than a week later. She had been so lost in his story, and it had felt so _right_ to lean up against him as she listened. The solidness of his frame, and the perfect feeling of his arm wrapping around her waist …

It felt stable, secure … Safe.

And the other day, when she had brought him lunch up on the north windmill. She had known that he was attractive before, but she had never let it distract her until that moment that she was lying on top of him, her body pressed up against his, his lips mere inches from hers...

Her cheeks grew warm, and her hands clenched in her lap. She shook her head and mentally chided herself, flustered at her own thoughts. Here she was, a grown woman of almost 17 winters, and she was acting like a child with her first crush, unable to even think of him lucidly without blushing, about the curve of his lips, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, his...

_Damnit._

Apparently she couldn't be trusted alone with her own thoughts. She was just about to stand and look for Link when he materialized out of the crowd bearing a tray laden with two large, steaming bowls and a loaf of bread. He gingerly balanced the tray, placing one of the bowls in front of her before taking his own seat. She inspected the contents carefully, but tried not to appear too interested. Some sort of potato and onion soup in a thick, creamy broth. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation.

"You look like you could use a bite to eat," Link said, splitting the loaf of bread and placing the larger half in front of her.

Malon eyed the steaming bowl hungrily, saliva flooding her mouth, but she forced herself to look away. "I had some breakfast this morning."

Link gave her his most level gaze. "You had toast. Correction; you had half a slice of toast."

"It's more than I usually have in the mornings. I'll be fine," Malon said, suddenly feeling defensive.

Link shook his head. "You can't live on a piece of toast for breakfast," He pressed. "You work on a ranch, so you should know what a poor diet does to a person. There were times where I've had to go up to a week without a scrap of real food, and believe me when I say I crashed, bad." He nudged the bowl of soup in front of her. "Now eat. It's my treat."

Malon pulled the bowl closer, inhaling the delicious aroma. She hesitated at first, trying to maintain a sense of dignity, but it didn't take long before she had cupped the bowl in her palms and brought it to her lips.

"Hungry?" Link asked with a barely suppressed smile.

"Ravenous."

He set a pair of utensils on the table in front of her, flicking his finger against them. "I know you civilized folks have your own ways of eating, but where I come from we use spoons for our soup."

"You barbarians," Malon smirked, pointedly ignoring the utensils as she took her loaf of bread and stirred it in the soup before taking a bite. "Tha's what the bread ith for."

"We also don't try to talk with our mouths full." He said, dipping his spoon into the soup.

Malon swallowed and rolled her eyes theatrically. "Savages! It's a wonder you people even learned how to speak our language."

"We've managed, somehow," Link said, giving her one of his crooked grins.

Malon giggled, feeling refreshed and energized. Not just from the soup, which was delicious, but from the conversation as they ate as well. It had been ages since she had had anyone her own age to talk to (not counting her earlier aborted attempts with Link at the ranch), but to be able to just sit and relax, being comfortable enough to make jokes at each other's expense … It wasn't like her. She hadn't been this comfortable around anyone except for her father for a long, long time. Not since...

A flicker of memory tugged at her attention, causing her to frown. "Are you sure that we've never met before?"

Link had brought his bowl to his mouth, draining the last of the soup. He coughed, and lowered the bowl, eyeing her curiously. "Wha— ah, what makes you think that we have?"

She shook her head as she stirred the remains of her soup with her bread. "It's … just a feeling I have. I swear, you just seem so familiar, it's like…" She struggled to come up with the proper comparison. "It's like a favorite smell that you never forget. Like a field full of lilacs, or your mother's favorite perfume, or…" She drifted off with her chin cupped in her palm, lost in her own thoughts.

Link was quiet for several moments before giving her a needling grin. "Are you saying I smell?"

Malon laughed, reaching across the table to playfully shove his arm. "No you dummy. Just … just forget it," She shook her head to dispel the daydream as she finished off her meal, setting the bowl aside. "So, no luck with finding your mysterious Sheikah friend?" She asked.

Link shook his head sadly. "No, no such luck. All everyone's talking about is this festival that's coming up. Past that the rumor mill starts running dry," He glanced up, and his head tilted. "Huh. You know, you've healed up nicely."

Malon blinked quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Link reached across the table, brushing the pads of his fingers beneath her bangs where the thin white line of a recent scar cut across her hairline. "Right … here," He said, not noticing when Malon tensed up, her eyes going wide at the sudden intimate contact. "You were bleeding pretty badly here when I first found you, but the scar's barely noticeable now."

His eyes flicked down, meeting hers, and he tensed, suddenly seeming to realize what he was doing. He withdrew his hand, glanced away.

She was surprised to discover, for some reason, that she felt a pang of … _longing_, when he pulled away. She studied his face for a moment, turned in profile as he gathered his thoughts. Was he embarrassed too? Why was that? Did he … could he possibly ...

After a moment, seeing that she was finished with her meal, Link cleared his throat. "Let's go finish our errands," He said, standing.

Malon nodded, then smiled, relieved as the tension dissolved. "Let's."

* * *

"I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Link asked, turning in his seat. "Thank me for what? The soup?"

They had nearly arrived back at the ranch. The sun was setting in the west, and their wagon was half-loaded with food and a smattering of other supplies on their return trip, both for the animals and the Hylian occupants of the ranch.

Malon continued, "For allowing me to get outside of the ranch for a day without worrying about meeting a deadline or hauling around cow dung." She leaned back and rested her elbows on the slatted bench behind her, looking skyward with a fond smile. "Don't get me wrong; I love the ranch, I really do. But sometimes I forget that there is actually a whole other world here outside of those walls. Sometimes it just feels as if that's my entire life … and I love it ... but I like to step outside of it every now and then. To see what I'm missing," She turned to look at him. "Does that make sense?"

Link shrugged. "Everyone needs some rest from time to time. If you push yourself too hard for too long, you can completely burn yourself out. It's only natural to take a break every once in a while, no matter how much you love your job."

She hummed in agreement, throwing him a soft smile. "That was nice. You're a smart guy, Link."

"That's what they tell me," He replied casually, and they both laughed.

As soon as they entered the grounds of the ranch, Malon jumped off of the wagon, carrying the most perishable food items with her into the main house. Link drove the wagon around the side of the barn as usual, unhitched Epona, and brought her inside of the barn.

After he finished washing the mare and feeding the rest of the animals in the barn, he unloaded the hay bales left in the wagon, and grabbed the lone bag of bread flour that Malon had left behind. The door to the house was open a crack, and as he nudged it open his senses began to tingle with alarm. One of the kitchen chairs had been knocked over, and the bag of flour Malon had brought inside was lying on its side in the middle of the room. A seam had split, sending white powder spilling out across the floor.

"Malon?" He called out, setting the bag down near the doorway, but only silence answered him. "Ingo?" He tried, but received the same disturbing lack of a reply.

He took one step inside, but paused, his ears perking back in the direction he had come. The door had been ajar when he entered, as if someone hadn't had time to make sure it was closed properly when they left.

Dusk had fallen while he was busy in the barn. The call of night insects greeted him as he stepped outside, and … something else. Heated voices? He turned towards the horse paddock, noticing that fresh tracks had been dug into the gravel near the door, as if someone had been hauled bodily away.

He edged around the corner, just in time to see Ingo returning back to the house from the direction of the north windmill, his face purple and blotchy with rage. Link ducked back into the barn, giving Ingo a full hundred-count to make his way back into the house before he left through the back exit. He carefully stepped from the shadows, his stomach sour with worry, keeping close to the wall.

The back storage shed was attached to the northern windmill, and its foundations ran deep. Though he had yet to have a reason to venture down into its basement, he knew from his time he had spent here as a child that it had originally served as a dungeon back when the ranch used to house a military garrison. Small vents ringed the walls at ground level, which would place them near the ceiling for the cellar below. Iron bars and a single heavy wooden door that could be locked from the outside disabused anyone of the notion of an easy escape.

As he cautiously approached, he saw that some changes had been made recently. The lock was old but not as ancient as the door itself, a heavy metal contraption that was nearly rusted through, yet still sturdy enough to resist anything short of a Goron warhammer. He wouldn't be getting through the door without making a mess and a lot of noise.

Stymied, Link walked around to the back of the shed, out of sight of the house. Dozens of old milk crates were stored here along the wall, blocking his path. He shifted the boxes slightly, moving them away from one of the barred vents, and called out, "Malon? Malon, are you down there?"

"Link!" Malon's face appeared out of the darkness, scuffed with mud. She stood on a wooden bench, but even with her height she couldn't see even with the ground level. Her hair was mussed and her normally bright eyes were dull and wide with panic.

"What happened?" He asked, lying down on the cool earth to be closer to her.

"Ingo happened," Malon exclaimed. "I don't know what I did to set him off, he just snapped. Said we should have been back ages ago, and it must have been my fault, and I should be taught a lesson and punished, and I was just a s-stupid whore, and..." She waved her hand as words failed her.

Link looked at her gravely. "He's getting worse, isn't he?"

Malon's gaze darted away. "It's nothing I can't handle."

He saw the first glimmer of tears in her eyes, and she jerked her face down, shame burning on her cheeks. "Damnit. I'm stronger than this," She whispered, wiping at her eyes. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm a grown woman. I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm … I'm not."

"Calm down Malon," Link said, reaching a gloved hand through the bars. "Here, take my hand."

Her hands reached up and clasped around his. They seemed so small wrapped around his padded glove. He ignored the flash of rage that flooded his veins when he saw the pale bruises blossoming on her arms. Instead he forced himself to focus on her frightened face.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes."

Her eyes widened with fear. "I— I can't..."

Link inched forward, until his face was pressing against the bars. He reached out and stroked her cheek with his free hand, wiping away some of the grime. "Malon, you're my friend, and I want you to trust me on this. Can you trust me?"

Tear splashed ocean blue met cool stormy grey. "I … I trust you."

Link gave her a comforting smile. "Just close your eyes, and listen closely to my voice."

She clenched her eyes tight.

"Now breathe in."

She did so, however hesitantly.

"Ok, I want you to listen to my voice. Don't think about anything else."

"All— All right." She breathed deeply again, making a visible effort to calm herself.

"Do you remember the story that I told you? About courage even in the darkest of times?" When Malon nodded, he continued. "I want you to pretend that it's Allaya that's holding your hand. Pretend that she's giving you the courage to stand strong."

Her hands tightened almost imperceptibly on his, and the first hints of a smile crossed her lips. "You wouldn't make a very good Goddess, Link."

Link chuckled at the joke. "No, but I'm willing to give it a shot. Now start at fifty, and count back with me. Can you do that for me?"

"I think so," She replied.

"Fifty. Forty-nine. Forty-eight…"

Malon continued the count, "Forty-seven. Forty… forty-six…"

Link nodded as she counted, "Good, you're doing good, keep going. Forty..."

She clenched his hand tighter. "Thirty-nine… Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven."

By the time she reached the end, her breathing had calmed and the tremor in her voice had disappeared completely.

"Are you feeling better yet?" Link asked, running a thumb along the back of her hand.

"A little…" She admitted, sniffing. Hesitantly, she reached up with her free hand and wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. "Ah, I must look like a total wreck."

Link smiled. "Nah, you … you look good. I heard that there's something about a damsel in distress that drives all of the guys wild."

Malon scoffed, blinking away the last remaining tears. "Great, that's all I am I guess. Just some useless damsel that needs rescuing."

He _tsk'_ed. "I didn't mean it like that."

She smiled half-heartedly. "I'm just teasing. I know you're just trying to help."

He was about to reply when he noticed her hands tremble, and he realized her fingers were freezing. The cellar was cold at night as the earth drained the day's heat away. The walls were incessantly damp, being so close to the spring that fed the ranch. The iron manacles that had dotted the walls had long ago rusted away, for which Link sent a silent thanks to Farore. He was already pushed to his limit as it was. He didn't think he'd be able to resist giving Ingo a solid thrashing had he chained Malon to the walls.

He began to push himself up off the ground. "I'm going to get you out."

Panic seized her, causing her grip on his hand to tighten. "No! No, I … if Ingo checks and sees me missing, it'll only get worse," She said, shaking her head. "As long as I sit this one out and let him blow off some steam, things will go back to normal."

Both of them heard the implied '_For a while._' Neither had to acknowledge it.

"So you're going to sit here all night?" Link asked.

"It's better this way. Trust me."

"You'll freeze."

"I'll be fine," Malon said stubbornly.

Link looked around, frustrated, his gaze finally settling on the crates around him. Malon made a pained noise when he pulled his hand away and the warmth fled her fingers.

Most of the crates stored here were old and rarely used. One of the smaller ones had nearly rotted through, so he began breaking it down quietly and efficiently into dozens of smaller planks, thin enough to pass through the bars into the cellar.

"Pile these up near the bench, as if you were going to make a fire out of them," He said, handing her the dry planks. "Make sure they're not close enough to burn you though."

Malon blinked, confused, but did as she was told. "What do you mean, fire? We don't have anything that could start a fire down here."

"I do," When he was satisfied that she had made a suitable pile, he nodded. "Stand back against the wall, I don't want to hit you," He said as he drew his shield and tapped the small icon of a bow and quiver at the top of the inlaid scroll.

Malon backed away, but peered out curiously as an ethereal blue glow lit his features from below, then faded. In the darkness she could make out a long, slender shape in his hands. What was he planning? It almost looked as if he were about to—

For a brief instant his gloved hand burned with an orange fire, illuminating the bow and nocked arrow he was aiming down into the cellar. He aimed carefully through the bars, and in a flash the orange glow leapt along his arm and through the bow, igniting the head of the arrow in a blaze of sparks. The arrow flashed through the space between them in an instant, setting the dry, rotten boards alight.

Link nodded, satisfied. "There. It's not much, but it should help."

Her distress momentarily forgotten, Malon turned with widened eyes, awe creeping into her voice. "By Nayru … How… did you do that?"

"A little something I picked up from a friend of mine," He said, and Malon thought she could detect a hint of pride in his voice. "It's really useful on cold nights."

She shook her head in wonder. "I've … heard of people that can use magic. But I had no idea …"

"I ... try not to let too many people know," Link said, shifting uncomfortably. "A lot of them start asking for favors, and I hate having to turn them down, especially when it turns out that I can't do nearly half the things they think I can."

Malon settled back onto the bench, keeping a comfortable distance from the flames. The warmth felt good on her chilled skin. "Thank you," She said. "For trusting me with your secret."

"And you're sure you don't want me to get you out?"

Malon smiled sadly, shaking her head. "No. It … It's best this way, I think."

Link shook his head. Stubborn woman. "Hmm. Can't be helped, then." He settled down with his back against the wall. "You don't mind if I play, do you?" He asked, reaching again for his shield and leaning the bow against the stone wall.

Malon blinked and looked upwards, puzzled. "Play?" She asked.

He withdrew his hand, showing her the small blue instrument that he had retrieved from the scroll, "My ocarina."

"You play an ocarina?" Malon gasped, her eyes sparkling. She sounded not unlike a child being promised a piece of candy.

"For as long as I can remember," He said, and played a few testing notes.

Malon's eyes widened at the familiar tones, that strange sense of familiarity washing over her once more. It was that same feeling again. There was something ... calming about it. Safe.

She settled down onto the bench and closed her eyes, listening in silence as he played a sprightly, upbeat tune that would normally have her up in dance. Her thoughts were of springtime, of swiftly flowing brooks and fields full of flowering blossoms, colorful and serene. Of better times, before Ganondorf's rise to power.

The longer he played, the stronger she felt. Eventually – all too soon – the song ended, but the tranquil feeling remained.

"You're good," She offered quietly into the night air.

"Thanks. A friend taught me that one," He paused, then laughed. "Heh. I seem to be saying that a lot lately. Anyway, we used to play it as a duet during festivals," Link said fondly, then smiled. "Or whenever we just needed some time away from the other kids. We got a lot of practice in, as I recall."

"You seem to have a lot of interesting friends."

He chuckled. "Not that many, actually. I was a bit of a loner growing up. Didn't get along so well with the others."

Malon opened her eyes, glancing up at his dark silhouette. "Hmm … And are you a loner now?"

He paused, hesitant, then gave her a smile. "I suppose, in a way. Not many opportunities to make lasting friendships while I'm traveling," He paused, then added, "I'm doing my best not to be, though."

For several long moments, she said nothing, and Link thought that perhaps she had fallen asleep. Finally, she stirred, looking up at him again with the fire shimmering in her wide, liquid eyes.

"Will you … stay here, with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," He answered without hesitation.

She listened to him play long into the night.

* * *

So … lotsa fluff. Or as I like to call it, character development. The action picks up next chapter, I promise.

Also, we're on the downward slope for this story. If you'd like your voice heard on what I should write next, check out my profile for a poll.

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	15. Chapter 13: Special Delivery

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Note****s:**

Did you miss plot? Well, here's a nice helping of it.

* * *

Chapter 13: Special Delivery

* * *

It happened the very next morning.

She couldn't remember when she had fallen asleep. She awoke with the dying embers of the fire warming her chilled hands, just as the morning sun burned away the last vestiges of twilight. Cojiro crowed in the distance, signaling the start of a new day. Malon stood and stretched, her muscles tight and sore from lying on the uncomfortable wooden bench all night.

She was surprised to look above her and see Link curled up just outside of the window, sound asleep. She felt oddly touched, that he would spend the night with her like this and keep her company, even when she was fast asleep. He was snoring gently, his face pressed into the curve of his shield, a tiny trickle of drool making its way down the cold steel.

She shook her head, amused. Not only asleep, but apparently deeply so. She climbed onto the bench and reached out, stretching on the tips of her toes, using every inch of her long legs that her mother had blessed her with. Her fingertips brushed aside his bangs, whisper soft, just enough so that she could see his peaceful, unguarded face.

His eyes flicked open at her feathery touch, half-lidded, and they stared at each other for long moments before he closed them again. She giggled, emboldened, and ruffled his hair.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Link groaned in protest but propped himself up anyway. "G'morning," He said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning."

He looked out towards the barn at the sound of Cojiro crowing, squinting against the early morning sun, before turning back to her. "I'd better get to work, before Ingo comes looking for me," He said, his tone apologetic.

"All right."

And so he had left, but not before reaching through the bars one last time and giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

She wasn't alone with her thoughts for very long. Barely a candlemark had passed before the heavy lock turned over and the door flew open.

She didn't stand, didn't even greet Ingo as he came down into the cellar. He was bright-eyed and sober – unusual for him, this time of day – so she didn't feel quite the same anxiety that she normally would by being trapped with him in such a small room. Ingo scowled when he caught sight of the remains of her fire, but even that didn't seem to dampen his unusually cheery mood. Unusual for him, anyway.

"Get up and make yourself presentable, wench," He said, waving a missive at her. "We're hosting a _very_ special visitor today, and I'll not have you making an embarrassment of me." He turned and left, dropping the missive to the floor behind him, whistling a jaunty tune.

Malon retrieved the missive and exited the cellar, her steps faltering slightly as she stepped into the light. Her eyes went wide as she read. Why would _he_ be coming here of all places?

As she hurried towards the house she noticed that Epona and the wagon were nowhere to be seen. Today was their scheduled milk run to the small settlement near Lake Hylia, so it wasn't hard to figure out where Link had likely been sent off to. Upon entering the house she noted with disgust that Ingo had left the remains of his breakfast strewn across the dining table. Her stomach grumbled since she had missed supper the previous night, but she had no time to eat if what the missive had said was true. That was fine; she'd gone longer without eating before and a missed meal or two wasn't likely to kill her. She hurried upstairs. If what the letter said was true, she didn't have much time to prepare.

And so it was that she was still trying to slip into a new pair of clean clothes when the low, mournful call of a bullhorn echoed across the plains, vibrating the windows and settling deep into her bones.

The Dark Lord was approaching.

* * *

"Zoras high," Navi said, sacrificing two cards from her hand and laying them at the center of the pile.

The three faeries around her groaned, two of them throwing down their hands in disgust. The third – a male with a faint yellow glow and lovely luminescent wings – narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He was cute like that. If the other girls weren't here she might have had other plans for him. _Alas..._

The four fairies were seated on one of the highest beams in the barn, tucked away in the rafters near the back wall. Anyone looking in their direction would see only a faint glow illuminating the nearest rafters, hopefully mistaking it for reflected sunlight. After clearing out the dust, Navi had found that it would make an excellent vantage point from which to watch the rest of the barn, and as an added bonus it was spacious enough to easily accommodate a handful of her friends.

Link would probably throw a fit if he knew there were sometimes upwards of a dozen faeries hanging around the ranch. But she got _bored_ waiting for him to make some moves on Malon, and by her thinking what he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

The male tapped his cards thoughtfully, then finally made up his mind. "You're bluffing."

Navi blinked her wide eyes innocently, using her remaining cards to fan herself nonchalantly. "Your call, I suppose."

The male hesitated for a brief moment, then laid down his cards, grinning in triumph, before Navi calmly laid out the rest of her hand over his. The ethereal pink symbols painted on the cards briefly flared to life, easily beating his Doubles with her Full Clan, and Yellow's face dissolved into a frown. Poor guy. Once they had a bit more privacy she'd make it up to him. For now though, spoils to the victor and all that...

"Haha, _gimme_," Navi said, reaching for the pile of sunflower seeds and a single, plump strawberry.

A deep, resonant sound vibrated through the barn, scattering the seeds and causing the faeries to spring upwards in alarm. Navi peeked over the edge of the beam, making sure that the barn was clear and sighed as she realized that her winnings were probably about to go to waste. She zipped down to Link's loft and out of the barn through his open window. She flew to the outer wall and scanned the surrounding field, quickly finding the small caravan approaching the ranch, and felt her tiny heart freeze in her breast as she recognized the powerful figure at its lead.

"Oh, _Din._"

She took off for the horizon as fast as her wings could carry her.

* * *

Malon rushed the last of her prepping, barely finding time to run a brush through her tangled curls before the bullhorn sounded again. She checked herself in the small, age-pitted mirror, making sure she was at least moderately presentable, and stepped outside just as the bullhorn sounded a third and final time. She covered her ears for the sheer volume of it.

_They must be right outside the gate,_ she thought, just in time to have her suspicions confirmed as Ingo came scrambling back from unlocking the main gate. He came to a stop beside her, bouncing from toe to toe like an eager schoolboy, and awaited what was probably his greatest idol in the kingdom.

The steed appeared around the bend first, a magnificent, powerful stallion at least 18 hands tall, heavily clad from muzzle to hoof in silver barding and red flanchards. Its coat was a deep, matte black that was almost blue, so dark it looked as if someone had taken the night sky and stripped out all of the stars. The only reprieve from the darkness was around the whites of its eyes, which were more of a deep, ruddy red rather than white, appearing almost infected.

The man riding the stallion was no less impressive. His blood-red hair was dark in the morning sun, darker than even her own copper curls. He was heavily armored, but as he moved in the saddle it appeared as if he were intimately familiar with the weight, and it didn't hinder him in the slightest. His mere presence felt like a beach's worth of sand had been poured on top of her. The sheer ... _power_ emanating from him was enough to make her take an involuntary step backward. No wonder he had managed to usurp the previous king so easily.

Two knights in gleaming black armor followed several paces back, astride a smaller – but no less impressive – pair of dole-eyed stallions. Their coats were of a color that she had never seen before; a silvery-white that reminded her of morning mist in the forest. She couldn't see the knight's eyes within their helms, and suspected that that was probably for the best.

The Dark Lord Ganondorf Dragmire drew even with them, his stallion cantering to a stop with a powerful snort, pawing at the ground. The man dismounted, and Ingo bowed low at the waist as armored boots crunching loudly on the gravel path. He turned to regard them, silently, and crossed his heavy arms in front of his chest.

Ingo – seeing that Malon had not prostrated herself and was instead openly gawking – cuffed her sharply across the back of her head. "Bow down, wench!" he hissed, "You're in the presence of royalty!"

Malon gritted her teeth against the pain and did so, though not nearly as low as Ingo, if only because she didn't think her spine would bend quite that far.

The Dark Lord was the first to speak.

"Ingo," he said in greeting, his voice like velvet covered steel, "Sycophantic as always, I see."

Ingo looked confused for a moment, then smiled and bowed again at the assumed compliment. "My Lord, I am honored that you would grace this humble ranch with your presence."

Ganondorf turned without acknowledging the welcome. His gaze swept across what he could see of the ranch, a tiny narrowing of the eyes the only sign of disapproval at its decrepit state, before coming to rest on Malon. "And you … you must be the rancher's daughter," His eyes flickered as he searched his memory. "Malon, wasn't it?"

"Yes," She said, only remembering at the last moment to add, "My Lord." She didn't bother bowing.

"Lovely name. Your parents picked well," Ganondorf said musingly as he nodded.

Suddenly he reached out, his hand quick as a viper as his gloved fingers tightly gripped her chin and tilted her head upwards. His sulfurous eyes searched her face, evaluating, and she inhaled sharply even as she forced her back ramrod straight. She felt not unlike a mare at auction, and knew that if she were to even attempt to fight him it would end badly. The casual brutality with which he had grabbed her told her that he saw her not as another person, but as nothing more than a piece of meat, to be appraised and – if found wanting – discarded.

After several long moments, his fingers slackened and withdrew.

"You have her eyes," He said simply, letting her chin drop. He turned back towards Ingo, the irrelevant farmgirl already forgotten.

Malon blinked in shock, but held her tongue and resisted the fierce urge to slump to the ground as he strode away, her pulse pounding in her ears.

What in Nayru's good name had that been about?

* * *

"... and then as soon as he was done he turned right back around and left."

Link shook his head, his brow furrowed as he processed what Navi had told him. When his faerie companion had swept down out of the blue and told him that Ganondorf had appeared at the ranch, he had very nearly unhooked Epona from the cart – bandits be damned – and ridden for the ranch as fast as they could.

However, it turned out that Ganondorf had not stayed long. In fact it seemed as if he had only stopped by to deliver some supplies to the ranch. Not long after he had arrived, Navi reported, a small caravan began winding its way into the ranch, loaded down with several large crates. Why Ganondorf himself would do so personally was beyond anything either of them could even begin to guess.

"Good job, Navi," Link said. "Let me know if anything else happens, if you can."

Navi beamed at the compliment, gave a jaunty salute, and flew off.

Since Ganondorf and his entourage had already left, and there didn't appear to be any immediate danger, there wasn't any need for him to rush back. So they continued on their way, arriving back at the ranch within the candlemark.

He had jumped down when they arrived and opened the gate, leading Epona through on foot, when the frantic bleating of a goat caused his head to snap up. One of the goats, the last remaining buck they used for breeding stock, was baring down on him at a full charge. It was old enough that its ridged beige horns had fused together at the top to form a massive, scooping crest, and it was lowered to attack.

Time seemed to dilate, his instincts kicking in and adrenalin flooding his veins as his mind quickly took stock of his situation. _Epona locked to the wagon behind, blocked in on both sides, no way to dodge around it. _He barely had time enough to take two steps forward, brace his legs, and position his hands before the beast was upon him.

The goat's massive crest slammed into his open palms, and he felt himself carried back several feet by the creature's momentum. Twin spikes of pain bit into his shoulders, and for a moment Link was afraid that he would lose his grip on the horns, but he managed to hold on. He was able to dig his feet in, but the buck wasn't giving up without a fight, and its pace was barely slowed.

Strength for strength, Link knew he wasn't going to be able to match the goat. But he had an advantage. His time spent with the Gorons had been incredibly educational, especially in hand-to-hand combat. If there was one thing the rock men of the mountain were good at, it was grappling with other creatures and coming out on top. Link had wrestled with the other Kokiri for fun when he was younger, but the Gorons had turned it into an art form. After they'd shown him a few moves, he'd even beaten them. Once.

The goat, being unaware of such things, never stood a chance. He twisted his hips, flexed his arms, and used his grip on the goat's horns to turn its own momentum against it. The buck barely had enough time to let out a surprised yelp before its legs slid out from under it, slamming chin-first into the dirt.

It bleated feebly from the ground, dazed and confused, and made no move to stand.

He huffed hard, shaking out his aching arms, then saw that the goat was bleeding from a gouge on its flank. A moment later he realized that his throw wouldn't have cause such an injury, and the moment after that he had thrown the gate shut and quickly began unhitching Epona from the cart. He mounted the mare, leaving the cart where it was.

Just in time to hear a throaty, feminine scream of defiance.

"_Hiyah!_" he cried, urging Epona forward as quickly as she could navigate the winding path. He was slowed as he came to the house. Six horses crowded the entrance-way, blocking his path forward. They stood hitched to three large, loaded wagons that were empty of riders, nibbling on what sparse grass they could reach from their harnesses. Another shout reached him, and he urged Epona through the small gap between the wagons and out towards the central corrals.

He scanned the open field, quickly catching sight of the five figures against the northern wall. He steered Epona towards them and urged her into a full gallop.

Three large, brutish looking creatures were squaring off with Malon, and he reached for his sword. She stood defiantly, waving a pitchfork threateningly as their last breeding dam cowered behind her. The creatures that had her hemmed in against the wall were dressed in leathers with rich, forest green skin and a pair of small curved horns jutting from their skulls. Their arms were unnaturally long, reaching nearly all the way down to the ground, and their forearms bulged with sinewy muscle.

The ogre on the left made a feint, laughing darkly as Malon whirled on it, causing it to quickly retreat. The one on the right used the opportunity to dart around her, utilizing its freakishly long arms to get a grip on the dam's leg and began dragging it backwards. The goat bleated in alarm and tried to scramble away, but the creature's grip was a solid vice.

Malon spun, faster than Link would have thought her capable, and jabbed the pitchfork at the creature, catching it on the forearm and opening a small gash. It dropped the goat's leg and stumbled backwards, spitting a quick burst of garbled language as it shook its wounded arm, what could only have been a surprised curse. The other two laughed at the injured one's misfortune.

The one with the wounded arm stepped forward again threateningly, reaching for a small club on its belt, but was sent stumbling back as Link arrived and steered Epona between Malon and the creatures. "_Link,_" she said, her eyes glowing.

"Back_ off._" He growled at the creatures, brandishing his sword.

The three creatures looked at each other and began conversing in their low, gutteral language. Link was able to study the creatures more carefully, and found that they didn't seem to be the usual dumb-as-rocks monsters that he was used to fighting. Beady red eyes peered from beneath a heavy brow, rich with a fierce intelligence. Their clothes were well fitted, unlike the usual scraps that some monsters and even a few Hylian bandits were known to cobble together. He could see that all three of them carried well-maintained weapons of some sort, but none had drawn them, suggesting that not only did they have the capacity to keep their weapons in fighting condition, but the ability to recognize that not every situation required them to wield it. They didn't actually appear to be threatening Malon, only the goat behind her, but he felt that if it came to blows that they might pose a more significant challenge than he was used to.

The one in the middle said something, which caused the other two to guffaw. Then the three of them turned and began walking unhurriedly back towards the barn.

Link growled, holding his sword low, and steered Epona in their direction.

"_Wait_," Malon said breathlessly. "Don't kill them."

Link pulled up on the reins and turned to her in disbelief. "_What?_"

"Just … give me a moment."

He quickly dismounted, concerned as he looked her over. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. After a moment, her arms began to tremble. She set the pitchfork into the ground and leaned on it. "At least, I will be."

He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You did good."

"Then why am I shaking like this?" she asked.

"Everyone shakes if they're not used to it," he said, then added, "Heck, even I still shake sometimes. It'll pass, eventually."

Malon nodded, then blinked as the last few minutes caught up with her. "Link … Were you riding Epona?"

That confused him for a moment. "I … yeah. Figured it wouldn't do to have you turned into monster chow. Why?"

Her bright blue eyes fixed on him. "Epona doesn't let anyone but me ride her. Not even my father."

_Oh ... shit._

"I've been … practicing," he said, searching for an answer. "We seem to get along rather well." He shifted uncomfortably. "It's … not a problem, is it?"

After a thoughtful moment Malon shook her head. "No, I suppose not. It's just … surprising, is all. You must be the first person in..." she shook her head again, her eyes distant, "Well, it's been a long time since anyone else has even tried to ride her without getting thrown. Maybe she's mellowed out over the years."

"Maybe," he said ambiguously.

They were quiet for several moments as Malon caught her breath. Eventually she straightened, hefting her pitchfork. "Come on. Let's make sure that they haven't broken into the barn to torment the other animals," she said, taking ahold of Epona's hackamore and leading her as they walked, suddenly feeling irrationally possessive of the mare. The goat followed closely behind, perhaps sensing that it wasn't smart to wander off on its own at the moment.

Link nodded his head towards the barn, indicating the ogres. "What the heck were those things, anyway?"

Her answer was dull and listless, as if she were reading from a textbook. "Bulblins, I think. From the deep south. I've heard of them, but I've never seen one before now."

"What are they doing all the way up here?"

Malon told Link everything that had happened that morning while he had been gone. Link nodded along, pretending that Navi hadn't already told him everything. "Those three followed a few minutes later in the carts. From the looks of it, they're a part of Ganondorf's personal supply system."

It took a moment for Link to process that. "Those things are mail carriers?"

"Seems like…" she said as they came around the corner and found the Bulblins in the process of unpacking, the goats apparently forgotten. The goat following Malon froze at the sight, then ducked around the corner and through the open barn door.

Ingo stood by, watching with a reverent smile plastered on his face. Several small crates had been piled to the side, but the main attraction seemed to be two large, dark wooden crates loaded individually in the front and back wagons, which the Bulblins were ignoring for the moment.

Link approached the first wagon carefully while keeping one eye on the Bulblins and reached out to rub a hand on the mahogany panels. He could feel a faint tingle run through his fingers, as if the wood had recently been near a powerful source of magic and was slowly bleeding off the residual energy. He wished Navi was here; she could probably tell him more about it. It was almost comforting, in a way. The Sacred Forest had felt much like it.

Malon's demeanor grew noticeably less joyous as she took in the full haul. "How in the world are we going to be able to afford all of this?" She rubbed her forehead in disgust. "Ingo, how much did you spend on these?"

"They're a blessing from the great King Ganondorf," Ingo said, waving the question away.

Link quickly withdrew his hand. The wood wasn't so comforting any more. "I wasn't aware that he– that the King was the kind to give something for nothing," he said carefully.

Ingo was nearly beside himself with glee. "Shush boy, and watch this," he said as the Bulblins went to work on one of the boxes with a couple of crowbars. "I can't wait to see i-i-it..."

The top came off first and was thrown carelessly aside. Eventually the last of the nails was pried loose, and the side panels fell open, falling off of the cart with a loud clatter.

Link's sword hand twitched.

Malon gasped beside him, a hand flying to her open mouth as Epona shook her mane in agitation. "By Nayru…"

It was massive. A hulking monster made of obsidian stone and plaster, its hunched form only passingly resembling that of a Hylian. It had two arms, two legs, and a head, but that was about where the resemblance ended. Its haunches were oddly jointed, like those of a wolfos, and a sinewy pair of wings sprouted from its shoulders. Great detail had been put into the pebbled flesh, lovingly etched over powerful muscle. Its talons were curled and viciously sharp, one claw poised as if ready to dig into someone's poor, unsuspecting back.

A single emerald jewel glowed faintly from a golden decorative mount imbedded in the gargoyle's forehead. Its mouth was open in an evil, monstrous cackle, revealing rows of carefully carved teeth. The base of the statue took up nearly the entire cart, and it must have been at least twelve feet to the top of its shoulders. That wasn't even counting its wings, which wrapped around its flanks like a protective cocoon.

Dozens of ropes were tied around it, almost as if they were binding it in place. A thick ring of metal was looped through the top of them, suggesting that the statue had been lowered onto the cart with a crane and boxed in place.

"It's hideous," Link said _sotto voce_, low enough so that only Malon could hear.

Ingo seemed much more taken with it. "It's beautiful," he murmured in awe, walking up to run a hand along its textured stone flank. "To think that the Lord Ganondorf would grant me such a wonderful gift..."

Link looked at him in shock. "Wait, this _thing_ is a _gift?_"

Ingo nodded enthusiastically, seeming to come down to reality. "This fine sculpture was originally meant as the centerpiece of the gate to Lord Ganondorf's castle. But since we've been so loyal to our new King, we've been rewarded with this statue to display proudly over all the people of Hyrule." He chuckled darkly. "Those bastards down at the saloon won't believe me when I tell them..."

"So it's nothing more than a massive ego booster," Link muttered sourly to Malon.

"If it's free and it gets him in a good mood, do we really care?" she replied.

"Hm. Point taken."

Ingo hadn't stopped talking. "... so we'll need to set it up ourselves, of course." He glanced at Link. "And by 'we' I mean you."

"Of course," Link mimicked. "And just where exactly are you planning on placing this thing? Assuming we can move it at all, that is. Do you realize how much that thing has to weigh?"

Ingo clapped his hands in delight. "I'm glad that you're so eager to get cracking, my boy! Wouldn't want these dumb brutes going and smashing it to pieces trying to haul it to the top."

Link felt a sinking pit open in his stomach, but he had to ask, "The top of what?"

"Why, the only place that would allow all of the ranch to bathe in its glory," Ingo pointed directly at the top of the barn, with what Link assumed was meant to be a grand pose, a hand placed firmly on his boney hip.

Link regarded the barn sceptically before turning back to Ingo. "Tell me you're joking. Isn't there enough repair work to be done already?"

"What did you think you'd be doing when I hired you? Flirting with the girl all day?" Ingo sneered, then turned to Malon. "And don't think that you get to ignore your usual chores for the day just because we had a special guest. Now both of you get to work!"

* * *

It turned out to be a great deal easier than Link had initially thought.

The Bulbins weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, but they had strength and stamina in spades. They also brought along some help. The second wagon – what Link had initially thought was just a carriage – had instead turned out to contain a rather ingenious mechanical crane.

At Ingo's assent, the Bulblins went to work, steering two of the carts through the gateway and around to the front of the barn. Once in place, one of the Bulbins began spinning a crank at the rear of the wagon, causing the contraption to unfold, while the others were busy hooking the gargoyle up to the winch. Four large trusses folded outwards at opposite corners of the wagon, planting themselves firmly in the ground and stabilizing the crane.

The central pillar with its complicated triangular framework soared into the sky as the frames slotted together, reaching well past the top of the barn, then jerked to a sudden stop. The Bulbin turning the crank looked at the gears in confusion as they shivered in their casing. It kicked the crank case with a muttered curse, and the pillar wobbled uncertainly, then tipped over and cracked against the flat roof of the barn. The angled portion at the top folded down, forming an anchor to keep the crane steady.

The Bulblins used the hoist to shuttle two of their number up to the top of the roof, with Link following shortly after it was secured. A box full of rudimentary tools and several large timbers followed, and the Bulblins set to work. The Bulblins did most of the work themselves, but with Link's help it took less than a candlemark to construct a sturdy frame to help ensure that the gargoyle didn't go plunging through the barn roof.

The Bulblins drew a line up through the pulley system strung throughout the crane. The one holding the end of the rope looked at Link speculatively, then tossed it to him and walked towards the front. Link thought briefly of tying the rope around his waist, but the thought of the Bulblins letting go while the gargoyle was halfway up and allowing him to get dragged through the contraption stopped him cold. The term "meat grinder" came to mind. Instead he hooked the rope around behind his backside, holding it tight with both hands on either side and using his weight to anchor himself.

The Bulblins heaved together – obviously having worked on something similar before – while Link strung the excess rope out behind him. The rope came taught, and they could hear the cart below begin to creak and groan as the gargoyle was lifted into the air. Link backed up along the roof as the Bulblins pulled, stopping only when they had to tie off and let Link make his way back forward lest he fall off the far end of the barn.

It was tough, sweaty work, but soon the head of the gargoyle appeared over the ledge. One of the wings caught on the roof, cracking a shingle, but they managed to get it up and in place without further incident. They used a small, jagged-edged knife to cut away the ropes, rocking it back and forth in order to free the strands beneath it. A few thwacks with a mallet, and the statue settled into place, now a stony sentinel looking out over the horse paddock.

The Bulblins conversed for a moment before loading the tools into the cart and climbing onto the crane, scaling the wooden bars instead of riding it as they had before.

When they were gone, Link took the opportunity to survey the ranch, wiping the sweat from his face and neck. He rarely had the chance to see the entire thing all at once, and the windmills weren't high enough to afford him a view this excellent, even if the skyline was now marred by a giant snarling chunk of granite. The sun was settling low on the horizon, though there was still another candlemark before dusk, and the cool breeze felt good on the back of his neck.

A small gust of warm, damp air blew past him, the smell reminding him of the putrid rot of a peat bog. He turned, curious as he scanned the roof, but couldn't determine what had caused it. An instant later the air was pleasantly cool once again.

He frowned and glanced back at the sculpture. Something about the gargoyle just twinged his instincts, but he couldn't quite place it.

There it was again. A glimmer of something, but when Link tried to focus on it, it was gone. It was as if he could only glimpse it out of the corner of his eye, but try to concentrate on anything in particular and it would slip away like water through his fingers. He looked up at the emerald gem in its forehead as the afternoon sunlight sparkled and danced in its depths._ Hmm. That must have been it._

Link shivered lightly. The damn thing was starting to really give him the creeps. He had to give the stonemason credit, whoever it was. The gargoyle looked as if it was about ready to just reach out and chomp on a neck or two.

Deciding that spending much more time around the stone monstrosity was likely to start affecting his sanity, he looked about the roof for leftover scraps, gathering what he could find, and finally decided to call it a day. He climbed down the scaffolding, surprised to find Malon waiting for him instead of the three Bulblins. She offered him a flask of water, which he accepted gratefully as he looked around, finally catching sight of two of the creatures along the far wall of the ranch.

"What are they doing?" Link asked, drinking greedily.

They watched as the Bulblins made a circle of the ranch, each carrying a small paint can and brush. As they went, they would mark a small blue inverted triangle on the walls, paying more attention to that one action than anything they had yet exhibited, and continued down the wall for several meters before repeating the action.

Malon shrugged at Link's question. "The one on the crank went to go unload the other cart as soon as the statue was up. I think Ingo decided that it would have to be stored in the south-west windmill, since the crate was too big to fit anywhere else."

"What's in it?" he asked.

"Not sure. They didn't open it, but at least we've run out of places to put more statues. Maybe it's a replacement?"

Link snorted, and gestured towards the two along the far wall. "And them?"

"The others grabbed some paint cans when they came down. As far as I can tell they're hitting every building on the ranch. They even marked the cucco nest," She shook her head. "Ingo says we're to let them finish, but he couldn't tell me why."

"_Couldn't_, not wouldn't?"

"Oh, he made like he knew, but I could tell he was just as confused as I was. But Ganondorf apparently told him that it had to be done, and it's not really hurting anything," she sighed, her tone turning acerbic, "So what's the harm in letting them do as they please?"

As soon as Link was done drinking, she took his flask and walked back towards the house to start on dinner. Sure, her ranch was falling apart at the seams, but it was _her ranch_ damnit, and with Link's help it was just getting to the point where she could be proud of it again. Letting Ingo install some damned statue and a handful of green-skinned goblins run around like children with finger paints rankled her nerves like few things could.

* * *

Link had just about been ready to bed down for the night when he noticed that the spot on his Sheikah scroll that normally held the stylized icon of his bow was blank. He wracked his mind to remember what he had done with it, frustrated with himself that he had forgotten such an important piece of his equipment. The last time he'd used it had been to light the fire for Malon, which meant that it was likely still leaning against the outer shed.

He growled in frustration as he reluctantly began slipping back into his boots. Ordinarily he might have left it for the morning, but he wasn't sure what a second night outside in the elements would do to the magic-infused weapon, and the more he thought about it the more he was sure that he didn't want to take that chance. He yawned mightily as he finished lacing up his boots, and slid down the ladder.

He walked quickly, eager to get this last chore over with before he could finally sleep. The waxing gibbous moon hung low on the horizon behind a pall of clouds, casting long shadows across the dew-dappled field and giving him just enough light for to see by. He followed the newly painted markers around the outside wall, the freshly dried paint noticeably lighter – almost glowing – in the moonlight, and thought to himself that it might actually be a nice addition to the ranch. They made it easier to see where he was going, at least.

He found his bow leaning against the wall of the old storage building, just as he had suspected. He grabbed it, muttering darkly, then spun and tottered off back across the open field, shivering against the chilly night air. He yawned blearily as he made his way back towards the barn, his steps now shuffling and slow with his task accomplished.

As he came around the pasture and the barn came fully into view his mind ticked awake just a fraction. Something had caught his attention, but he couldn't say what. For a moment he thought it might have been the missing wagons, but no, he'd known that the Bulblins had left earlier just before sundown. He paused, frowning as he tried to work out what his instincts had picked up on.

Link shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog of sleep from his mind, looking upwards towards the empty roof. A perfectly ordinary empty roof, just like it was every day. It was normal. But it wasn't normal. That empty space had been replaced earlier that day with something big and ugly and monstrous.

The gargoyle was gone.

_That_ certainly snapped him awake. His head snapped left and right as he surveyed his surroundings, his mind instantly filling with a thousand different scenarios, most of them influenced by old campfire stories designed to frighten children. He glanced back at the roof just to make sure that his sleep-craving mind wasn't playing tricks on him. The sheer _wrongness_ of the situation had his heart hammering in his chest.

A sound to his right, deep and guttural like the growl of a forest puma. Link whirled towards the horse paddock, holding his bow defensively and wishing to Nayru that he had had the foresight to bring his quiver as he prepared to meet whatever it was.

Nothing. Nothing but shadows and fractured moonlight.

He blew out a nervous breath, laughing to himself as the tension drained from his body. _It's all right, Link. Don't let your imagination get the best of you._

Intense pain lanced down his left side as razor claws pierced his chainmail, raking lines of agony across his flesh.

* * *

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


	16. Chapter 14: Uncertainty

_The Legend of Zelda: Paradise Calling_

**Author's Notes:**

I so rarely get to use cliff-hangers, and the chapter was running long. Let me have my fun. =3

* * *

Chapter 14: Uncertainty

* * *

Most people seemed to think that being a hero meant that, in the event of an ambush, one would willingly turn and face any foe.

Link would gladly disabuse them of that notion.

He would happily admit that he had run from an adversary on more than one occasion. Heck, it had taken him three tries to slay Volvagia, and the fire dragon was only the most powerful example he'd yet faced. Granted, if given the chance he would always come back and finish the job once he was confidant that he could win, but he'd willingly turned tail and fled several times before if it looked like the enemy was gaining the upper hand. Being ambushed without a weapon in the dark by a silent predator made of _freaking granite_ certainly fit that description.

He didn't even turn to face his foe as what felt like talons ripped across his left side and lower back. The sheer power behind the strike told him all he needed to know as he was thrown forward. He rolled with the momentum, came up, then sprinted as fast as he could for the barn.

Even if he hadn't seen his attacker, his mind didn't have any trouble filling in the blanks. A huff of … surprise? … behind him, and the sense of vast amounts of air being swept under leathery wings as the thing took flight in pursuit. He could feel the tell-tale tackiness of blood oozing from his wounds and sticking to his clothes, rapidly drying in the cool night air. But he refused to slow his pace, his arms pumping.

A shadow flickered overhead, passing in front of the moon. He dodged to the right as the thing swept through the space he had just occupied and scrambled through the iron bars of the central fence and into the horse paddock. He kept close to the fence as he ran, giving him a solid barrier on one side to ward off the monster. Or so he hoped. He didn't actually know if the fence would deter the creature or if it would merely take it as a challenge to getting at its midnight snack.

The back door to the barn was heavy, slow to open, and exposed, which meant that it was tantamount to suicide. Instead he dashed between the barn and the house, hoping that the enclosed space of the walkway would give him some protection.

His instincts shouted _right_, and instead of turning into the barn he slammed open the door to the house as the creature dive-bombed him. He felt the tip of the creature's wing clip his shoulder, nearly knocking him from his feet as he staggered inside.

* * *

Malon carefully tied off the last of the lavender thread, cutting the excess with a small dagger, and set her thimble aside. She studied the worn edge of her spare work skirt. The stitching was inexpert, and the thread was a slightly different shade than the fabric, but one would have to look closely to notice it.

_Or maybe not so closely,_ she thought. The skirt was riddled with such minor fixes.

The lamp on the table was set low, just bright enough for her to see her work to save on oil, casting flickering shadows about the room.

She admired her handiwork, pleased. _Not bad for an amateur._

Her skirt probably had another six months in it, a year if she really stretched it, but sometime soon she was going to have to replace it. She sighed. Yet another expense. If only she'd learned how to properly sew...

The front door slammed open, causing her to jump in fright, and Link staggered into the room, leaning his weight against the door to brace it shut. His bow clattered to the ground, forgotten as he panted for breath.

Malon smiled wryly at the familiar sight. "Isn't it a little late to be harassing the cuccos again?" she asked in jest. Her eyes went wide as she caught sight of his dark, bloodstained clothes and she leapt from the table, at his side in an instant. "_Goddesses_, what happened? Here, come sit down and let me look at it."

Link hissed at the stinging pain as Malon helped him over towards the dinner table. The adrenalin was starting to drain from his body, and the pain was coming in at full force. His blood left a thin crimson trail behind him as it soaked through his clothes and pattered to the wooden floor. "Wasn't … the cuccos," he said, gasping for air as he settled into a hard-backed chair.

Malon turned the lamp up to full and bent low to inspect his wounds. She sucked on her teeth at the sight of his bloodstained tunic, peeling it away from his side. The chainmail beneath was broken in several places and the wounds below were seeping blood, but he wasn't gushing, so it looked like nothing major had been hit. A small blessing.

"Take off your shirt."

Link blanched. "I … _what?_"

"Strip," she said. "C'mon, off with the shirt. I can't look at it with your chainmail in the way." She walked into the kitchen and lit another lamp over the wash basin, then began rummaging beneath the far counter.

Link hesitated, then with a sigh of resignation began peeling off his torn clothes. At least she hadn't demanded that he take off his pants as well...

_And thank the Goddesses above that I'm wearing my usual work pants…_ He thought ruefully. Things were embarrassing enough as they were. If Malon had tried to strip him down to nothing but his tights, he'd probably have marched right back outside and let the monster have its way with him.

He peeled his tunic off carefully, blinking in surprise when he saw the great gaping, bloody rips down its side. His chainmail must have done a superb job. Had he not been wearing it the creature would have gutted him.

The shirt could probably be fixed, but the chainmail was now a mangled mess, and he shucked it and tossed it to the side. Judging from the sad state it was in, it was probably beyond a simple repair job, and he'd have to remember to order a new one when he next went to Kakariko.

Malon returned, carrying a leather bag and a damp cloth, which she set on the table. She watched as he began to slowly peel off his undershirt, but her patience was wearing thin so she reached up to help him with it. Now nude from the waist up, Link put his hands firmly in his lap and stared straight forward, ignoring the _tsk_'ing coming from the redhead as she kneeled at his side and began poking and prodding at his wounds.

"Now why don't you tell me how this happened?" she said as she inspected the damage.

Her fingers were delightfully cool against his inflamed skin, soft. He tried to focus on something other than her hands on his bare flesh as he told her what had happened after he had realized that his bow was missing.

"... I'm lucky to have made it back here with my head."

Malon hummed thoughtfully. "These don't look anything like claw marks."

Link twisted in his seat and looked down. The gashes in his side were uneven, and instead of three vicious slashes as he had expected there were dozens of smaller wounds where his broken chainmail had torn the flesh over his ribs. It was mostly light damage really, and it felt much worse than it looked, even with the liberal flow of blood. He had to admit, he'd have doubted himself too if he hadn't been there.

Malon picked up the towel and began to dab at his wounds. "_Riiight_. The big stone statue came to life and tried to take a chomp outta you," she said, eyeing him with a coquettish smile. "You sure you didn't just stumble and catch yourself on the cucco coup or something?"

He let her work in silence, but after several long moments, he spoke. "I'm not crazy. I know what I saw." As she worked, he kept throwing glances at the front door, worried that the creature would come bursting in at any moment. The fact that it hadn't already told him something, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Malon gave a skeptical and decidedly un-ladylike snort and bent down to examine her work. "Uh huh. Next thing you'll be telling me is that there are dragons living in Death Mountain," She said as she cleaned out the deepest of the seeping wounds over his ribs, then turned and rummaged in her bag.

Link gave that some thought. "Well actually, now that yo-_AAAAGH!_" He screamed in surprise at the sudden jolt of cool, intense pain in his side and jumped out of the seat. "Sweet Farore, what in the Dark Realm did you just stick me with?" He yelped, whirling around to guard against another surprise attack.

Malon merely favored him with an innocent smile from her crouched position by the chair, offering up a small bottle containing a dark brown liquid and a blood-stained towel held up for his inspection. "Quit your crying you big baby and sit back down. You're going to rip open your wounds at this rate. This is just a special ointment to make sure that you heal correctly and don't get an infection." She examined the bottle thoughtfully. "We normally use it on the horses, though."

Link sputtered for a few seconds, then huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, you could've warned me first," he said sourly, resisting the urge to scratch at his wound as it began to tingle fiercely.

"Sit," she said, pointing to the chair. "You're not getting sepsis on my watch."

When she made no indication that she was in a playful mood, he sat, albeit on the edge of his seat in case she pulled out any more surprises. He twitched away from the towel as she resumed her work.

Malon favored him with a patient smile. "Link, you're my friend, but if you don't sit still then I'm really going to give you a reason to squirm."

Link sighed again and did his best to sit stock still, knowing that her threat wasn't entirely empty.

Malon continued dabbing at his wounds. After several minutes of poking and prodding, and not a little bit of squirming on Link's part, she set her tools aside and picked up several strips of sterile bandage. He lifted his arms wordlessly and held on to the end of the bandage as she began to unroll the long strip of linen gauze. Another minute later and he was nearly wrapped up to her liking.

"How's it look?" He asked, twisting around while trying to get a better view.

Malon tore the last of the gauze with her teeth and tied the bandage together with all of the rapt attention that an artiste would apply the final brush-stroke to her latest masterpiece. "Well, it'll scab nicely, but I think you're going to live. Just try to keep it clean. If you go rolling through horse manure and get an infection, then may it be upon your head," She said, turning to gather her medical supplies.

Link rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks doc. I was worried there for a second."

She turned back around and patted him lightly on the side where a piece of gauze had already managed to slide down. He jumped at the sudden pressure, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"There, done. Honestly, I don't know how you managed to do this much damage while stumbling around in the dark. You're lucky the cuts are so shallow. You don't want me trying to stitch you up. I can barely do my own clothes."

"I wasn't stumbling around. I'm telling you, it was that damned gargoyle."

"Yeah, right. I still say you tripped and fell against the cucco coup."

Link felt the fire swell up within him. "And I say I know what I saw," he said, carefully avoiding the fact that he had never actually glimpsed the creature. "Besides, there's no way a fall would have torn through my chainmail like this."

Malon pursed her lips and batted her eyes at him. "Awww, does baby want a kiss to make it better?" She asked sweetly in a sing-song voice.

Link blushed and turned away, flustered. "I'm good, thanks."

"You're not invincible, you know," she said. "I know most teenaged boys seem to think so, but you're not. You need to be more careful, or else the cucco coup will get you next time."

"Gargoyle."

"Right. Well then, let's go see this flying 'gargoyle' of yours." She said wickedly, heading for the front door. If nothing else, she was enjoying the rise that she was getting out of him.

Link was across the room in an instant, slamming a palm over her shoulder and against the door before it was open more than a crack. "Are you _nuts?_" He hissed.

"_Aha_, you just don't want me to see where you tripped," Malon said, her eyes sparkling. She leaned forward at his sudden proximity, close enough to feel the heat from his skin, and was delighted when he took a step backwards yet kept his hand firmly on the door. _He's so cute when he's flustered._

He let out a breath, exasperated. "What part of 'blood-thirsty monster' didn't you understand?"

Her eyes darkened in challenge, but she backed away from the door. "Looks like you need to worry about yourself first before trying to protect me. Now sit down, or else you're going to bleed through your bandages."

She went upstairs, returning a few moments later with one of her father's old shirts. She figured it would be better for him to bleed on something that wasn't going to be getting much use anymore. He accepted it with a quiet "Thanks," and she turned away to give him time to get settled.

She watched his reflection in the window and was surprised to feel a tiny twinge of disappointment as he struggled to put the shirt on without messing up his bandages. He really did have a nicely muscled back…

_Ugh…_ She thought as she washed her hands in the sink._ Down girl. No need to go losing your head just because you got to see a cute guy strip down to the waist._

She paused when she felt herself flush.

_Maybe Ingo wasn't too far from the mark…_

She shook her head, physically trying to dislodge that thought from her mind. No, damnit, she was a young woman, and she was allowed to have these urges once in a while, just as long as she didn't act upon them. Her gaze fell back to his reflection, to the powerful curve of his flexed deltoids as he finally figured out which hole was meant for his head. _Maybe…_

She tossed the bloody towel in the laundry hamper, frustrated. No, it just wasn't possible. She was a plain looking country girl, nothing more. And he … he was…

Her eyes caught on her reflection in one of the windows over the wash basin, and she leaned in closer to get a better look. Were those bags under her eyes? Goddesses, she was a wreck. Yes, she bathed as often as possible, and yes, she washed their laundry weekly so that she would always have fresh, clean clothes to wear, but she was…

What was she? A simple farm girl. Someone who washed horses and picked up cow droppings for her very meager living.

Link, however, could go on to be a modestly wealthy carpenter, or maybe even a soldier in the service of some faraway country. What would a boy like him ever see in a girl like her? His future was bright. She had no right to try to take that away from him.

Her hands clenched on the basin and she stared hard at her reflection. Link wasn't going to be around forever. He had even admitted as much, once he found this 'Sheikah' friend of his. Like everyone else that came to this ranch, he would eventually move on. She didn't like it, but those were the simple facts. So she resolved herself to enjoy the friendship that they had while it lasted, and damned if she was going to let her hormones get the best of her and screw it all up.

Malon turned, laying a hand on his shoulder as she passed behind him, then, after a moment's thought, placed a quick peck at his temple. She could allow herself that much, at least. Between friends.

"Go get some sleep you big dummy. Ingo said he's probably going to wake you up early tomorrow so you can make another milk run. You're going to need your sleep."

She walked up the stairs leading to her room, stifling a yawn. "Good night, and make sure that the scary monster outside doesn't get you."

Link merely stared after her from his seat, his face burning a deep crimson.

* * *

Link stared the gargoyle down. "You and me buddy, just you and me."

Last night, after Malon had finished patching him up, he had made a mad dash from the house to the barn. Maybe the wind was playing tricks on him, but he swore he had heard the beat of leathery wings off in the distance. Luckily he had made it back inside unscathed, and he'd stayed up for half the night listening for any signs of a gigantic flesh-eating monster attempting to rip its way inside of the barn. Eventually, finally, sleep had overtaken him without him hearing a thing.

The sky was overcast, the clouds from the previous night having moved in, and a cold-front was on its way. Since the crane was gone, he'd had to get creative in order to climb on top of the barn without using his hookshot, but had managed to find a path up along the palisade. He'd wanted to see for himself if he had missed something, but so far he was disappointed. The gargoyle was in the same position that he had left it yesterday, down to its snarling maw and the almost eager way that its front claw was raised as if prepared to strike.

He was starting to think that maybe there was a chance that Malon was right after all. Maybe in his sleep-deprived state he had had some sort of waking nightmare and somehow managed to impale himself on a loose board. Or something. He didn't know of a wood hard enough to pierce chainmail, but he had seen (and done) stranger things.

Even so, he was now determined not to be caught off guard again, and was equipped with both sword and shield. Just as a precaution, of course.

Link put up his balled fists, spreading his feet in a brawler's stance. "You want some of this? Huh?"

He shadowboxed for a few moments, his gloved fists cutting the air inches from the gargoyle's ugly carved face. When he elicited no reaction he dropped his arms, almost disappointed, and inspected the gargoyle more closely, looking for any sign that the thing might spring to life.

He idly picked at the spiny ridge decorating the gargoyle's skull with his fingernail. "I could end you right now,' he said musingly. "Turn you to powder, mix you into a nice foundation for a new building. It wouldn't take much, just a couple of good whacks and you'll be nothing but dust. I've got a brand new warhammer with your name on it. You should go ask Volvagia how she liked it."

The gargoyle still said nothing.

"Link! Get down from there before you kill yourself!"

Link turned, scanning the ground before he caught sight of Malon. She had just exited the cucco coup and was balancing a basket full of newly laid eggs against her hip. The wind was kicking up, and she brushed as loose lock of auburn hair out of her face as she watched him worriedly.

"Hey, I helped to put this up here, didn't I?" Link called out, "I'll be fine, so don't worry."

"Like you were fine last night?" she countered, her slim frame set in a way that plainly said, '_Don't test me.'_ "You were lucky that you didn't need stitches this time. You're too clumsy to be walking around up there. Last night you were just on the ground; imagine the damage you'll do if you trip from up there?"

"I'm not going to trip," he called back, feeling a little devilish since he knew that she couldn't reach him. "If you were so worried about me then you wouldn't have stripped me down and smeared me with itchy juice!"

"_Men_," Malon muttered, shaking her head before turning back to him and raising her voice. "With any luck you'll land on your head! At least then you won't damage anything important!" she called, hefting the egg basket as she turned and walked away.

Link watched her retreating form for several moments before he turned back to the gargoyle. He reached out and stirred his finger around inside the crevice that served as one of the beast's eyes. "I'll be keeping my eye on you," he promised.

The massive chunk of rock stared back blankly, silently, and unflinchingly.

* * *

_Ciao!_  
Raynre Valence – Sage of Time


End file.
